Brothers and Sisters
by Romantique The Original
Summary: Another 'AndItsOuttaHere/RomantiqueTheOriginal' collaboration and sequel to Justified fic, 'Father Knows ... Nothing.' Graham Yost may have had his beginning to Season 5, but we two fans had ours, too. Does Raylan have a sister? This fic is based on nothing but our imaginations and takes place sometime after the end of Season 4.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

_In Search of Anna_

Winona's eyes blinked open, and she shifted in her seat.

"Have a nice nap?" Raylan slid his eyes to her then back on the road.

"Where are we?" she asked, yawning.

"About ten miles out of Nashville and headin' to Chattanooga," Raylan answered. "We've got another three hours or so. Ya' wanna stop now, maybe get somethin' to eat?"

Another yawn. "That sounds good. Maybe some coffee, too." She patted his leg. "That way, I can stay awake and keep you company."

They'd left Louisville around one in the afternoon, as soon as Gayle's pediatrician gave them the go ahead but did recommend Winona wait on the next vaccination series for another week or so. Willa was much better, fever free, and back to her cheerful self. Both she and Winona had fallen asleep about twenty minutes into the drive. Raylan hadn't minded the quiet. His head was filled with thoughts about how to find Anna Dumoir. He wondered if she even knew she was adopted. If not, finding out and being confronted with the brother she never knew all at once might be upsetting. Thinking along those lines helped him decide the first order of business.

"I'm gonna contact André and Marguerite Dumoir, first," he told Winona as he pulled the Lincoln into the right lane and slowed to exit. "It's the logical place to start, and I wanna find out how much she knows about where Anna came from."

"That's probably best," Winona nodded. He stopped at the light, and she peered out the window at the sign showing the different restaurants. "Where would you like to eat?"

"Nothin' fancy," Raylan answered. "Cracker Barrel?"

"Sure. The food is good, and the restrooms are probably clean."

"Thinkin' like a mama." He grinned at her.

The young waitress was enchanted by Willa and gave them extra attention, stopping at the table whenever she passed by to make sure the baby was liking her carrots and applesauce. Raylan had the chicken fried steak with home fries and corn, but Winona stuck with a salad with chicken and dressing on the side. They split a slice of peach pie with ice cream for dessert.

Raylan ordered two coffees to go while Winona changed Willa in the restroom and put her little sleeper on.

"This way, if she falls asleep we won't have to wake her up when we get to the motel," she said when she emerged.

"Good thinkin," Raylan winked with approval.

They had reservations at a place in Marietta, not far from the address Raylan had for the Dumoirs. Winona watched him as he fastened Willa into her car seat. Raylan was always quiet. Prying information out of him had been a full time job when they were first married. It hadn't gotten much better with the passing of time, but she'd learned when to push and when to back off and she sensed now that he needed to talk, he just didn't know how.

Slipping into the front seat, she buckled her seat belt and took a deep breath. Raylan slid behind the wheel, placing the hat on the console between them and turning to her. "Ready?"

"Yes," she answered. "Are you?"

His brow furrowed, puzzled.

"Are you ready to talk to the Dumoirs and find your sister?"

He sighed. "I wonder if I'm openin' a can of worms," he said. "What if she doesn't wanna know where she came from?"

"Would you want to know?"

"Huh?" He was puzzled again.

"If you found out that you were adopted, wouldn't you want to know where you came from?"

"Hell, yeah," he said, half grinning. "That'd be a dream come true for me to find out I was adopted. But Tami Jo . . . Anna . . . she dodged a bullet, and she don't even know it. Maybe she'd be better off not knowin'."

"But she has a brother," she said, laying a hand on his arm. "Don't you think she deserves to know that?"

"I dunno," he answered.

She leaned in and kissed him. "Everything is going to be fine."

They hit construction and bumper-to-bumper traffic on I-75 once they got into Georgia, and it was after nine when they finally reached the motel. Willa was sound asleep. The disinterested clerk at the desk apologized that the motel's two port-a-cribs were already checked out.

Irritated and too tired to find another motel, Raylan smacked his hand on the counter. "But I asked specifically when I made the reservation."

The clerk tapped at the computer keyboard with two fingers. "Oh, yeah. Someone musta missed that when the other people checked in and gave the crib to an earlier check-in. Sorry, man."

"Sorry doesn't give my baby daughter somewhere to sleep." Raylan's voice rose in volume and his jaw twitched.

"It's alright," Winona said, stepping up beside him and laying a hand on his arm. "We'll figure something out."

When they got to the room, Winona looked around. Spying the dresser, she placed Willa's carrier on top and slid the bottom drawer out as far as it would go. "Hand me that extra pillow," she said, pointing to the bed.

Raylan gave it to her, and she wedged it under the drawer to keep it balanced. "There. We'll pad it with a couple of towels, and it will be fine for one night."

"Heh," Raylan uttered, impressed. "You made a trundle bed."

She arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "I can be _very_ resourceful."

"Um hm." He moved in, covering her mouth with his. "With her sleepin'," he murmured, "we could be resourceful in the shower."

Winona pulled away, tipping her head back and looking up at him. "I was thinking a nice hot bath would feel good."

Raylan made a face. "A bath?"

Winona peered into the bathroom. "It's a garden tub. Look. It's nice and big." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her hips against him. "We'll both fit."

"Well," he glanced at the stall in the opposite corner. "The shower does look pretty small."

While Winona ran the water and got Willa out of the carrier, laying her in the makeshift crib, Raylan found the ice machine down the hall, got the whiskey from his suitcase, and fixed them both drinks in the plastic cups from the mini-bar.

"Here you go," he said, handing one to her.

She took a sip. "Thanks."

"You didn't put any fru-fru smelling bubble bath in there, didja?" He eyed the blue green water in the tub suspiciously.

Winona shimmied out of the soft cotton dress she'd worn in the car. "Just some sea salts I got at the spa." She unfastened her bra and tossed it at him, giggling when he caught it, hooking it out of the air with a finger. "You're over-dressed," she teased.

"That's easy enough to fix." He took the Henley off over his head, dropping it onto the floor. By the time Winona had stepped into the tub, he was right behind her. They sank into the water, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back to rest against him. The water was just hot enough and had a light, soothing scent.

"Not bad," he said, his lips grazing her neck.

She ran a hand along his thigh. "It's more relaxing than a shower, don't you think?"

He stroked a breast. "I'm not thinkin' about relaxin' at the moment."

The water lapped around them as she leaned back for a kiss. Breaking it, she stood and nudged him with her foot. "Scoot," she said.

"Hey, what're you doin'?"

"You'll see." Slipping behind him, she wiggled into place and dug her fingers into his shoulders, kneading the muscles, tight from driving.

"Uhhh," Raylan closed his eyes and groaned. "That feels good."

Winona smiled and continued working her way down his arms, then back up to his neck. She finished, and he leaned into her as she ran her fingers through his hair. "Relaxed now?"

"Um hmmm," he said. He brought her calf up over his leg, and she stroked his thigh with her foot, teasing.

"Now," she said, her voice whisper soft in his ear. "Where were we?"

He turned his head to kiss her just as Willa's wail cut through the silence of the motel room.

"Dammit."

Winona pushed up, wrapping a towel around her. "Stay here, I'll get her settled and be right back."

Raylan listened as Winona calmed Willa with soft soothing sounds and then, he heard the music of the lullaby app Winona had told him about. But after a few minutes, Willa was still whimpering and the water was getting cool. Reluctantly, he heaved himself out of the tub, drying off and wrapping another of the thick white towels around his waist.

"Sorry, Cowboy," Winona said, glancing up at him. "I think she's finally back to sleep now."

"Good." He reached down to take the baby and laid her in the drawer, marveling once again at Winona's ingenuity for thinking of the perfect solution.

Winona slipped past him into the bathroom. "Hey, where you goin'?" He followed, coming up behind her at the vanity. "I thought we could take up where we left off."

Her eyes met his in the mirror. "Oh?" A smile teased her mouth.

"Yeah." He put his hands at her waist and pulled her hips back into his. She wriggled in response, then bit her lip and slowly undid the towel, moving away from him to let it slide to the floor. He gazed at her body in the mirror as he reached over to the counter for a condom and opened the package and rolled it on. Then, he pulled her hair aside and buried his face in her neck, kissing his way to her shoulder, one hand sliding up her waist to cup her breast. "I think we were about here," he murmured.

She sucked in a breath and reached behind, tugging at his towel. He followed her lead, dropping a hand from her hip to guide himself inside her. They moved together, slowly at first, watching each other's reflections. She bent lower, bracing herself on the counter, and he slid all the way in. He had both hands on her hips now and quickened the pace until Winona gasped out his name, and he followed her over the edge.

They sank to the floor of the bathroom, leaning back against the tub, catching their breath. Raylan shook his head to clear it. "Goddamn, woman." He grinned at her.

"Me?" She elbowed him lightly in the ribs. "You're the one who started it."

"I didn't hear ya' complain." He swung an arm around and pulled her close, kissing her forehead. "Just the opposite, in fact."

"You got me, Cowboy." She yawned and gave a tug on his hand. "Come on, let's get some sleep while we can."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Winona rolled onto her side to face him, raising up on her elbow and propping her chin in her hand. Willa lay on her daddy's chest, pushing up on her arms and struggling to get one knee under her to move forward.

"Da-da-da-da!" she grunted.

Raylan grinned. "She's gettin' strong."

"She's going to crawl soon."

"Watch out world!" he chuckled.

Willa's arms tired, and Raylan sat and scooped her up against his shoulder. "Ya' had your breakfast," he said to his daughter. "'bout time for your Mama and me to have ours." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, bouncing the baby lightly. She grinned up at him and grabbed the sleeve of his t-shirt to hang on.

"There's a mall not far from here on the way to the Dumoirs. I thought I could drop you off. You and Willa could shop, and then I'd meet ya' for lunch. No disregard to your ingenuity, but I think a port-a-crib might be in order. Whaddya say?"

"That's fine with me," Winona said. "Besides, she's growing so fast that some of the things I brought along don't her fit so well, anymore. Guess she's ready for some sleepers in the 6 to 9 month old size now."

"Hard to believe she's already six months old." He kissed the top of his baby's head. "Here," he said, handing her over to Winona. "If we're gonna get goin,' I'd better get dressed."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

He dropped Winona and Willa off at the mall and took the expressway down to the next exit. Kevin Collins, the Marshal from New Orleans, had e-mailed him with the latest address for André and Marguerite on the south edge of Marietta, just outside of Atlanta.

Using the GPS app on his smart phone, Raylan drove through the winding roads of the nice, well-manicured Georgia neighborhood.

"2606 Bob Bettis Road," Raylan verified the address to himself, as he finally drove up to the modest, ranch home in the tree lined neighborhood. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before exiting his dust-covered Lincoln with Kentucky plates that suddenly stood out to him like a sore thumb. The thought crossed his mind that maybe he should have first stopped to wash off the travel dirt and bug splattered windshield. Too late now. He then decided it best to leave the hat on the front passenger seat.

As he made his way up the paved path to the front door, a woman came racing out the house, closing the door behind her and heading for the garage, as if she was on a mission. She was tall, light-skinned, with wide set brown eyes and salt-and-pepper hair cropped short and curling close to her head. Her arm strained to lift the canvas bag stuffed to the brim with papers, a fold-up umbrella, and a laptop case.

"Mrs. Dumois?" he asked, stopping her in her tracks.

"Sorry," she responded with an apologetic look on her face. "I'm late for school. My husband's home if you need anything." And she hefted the bag to her shoulder and disappeared around the side of the house to the garage for her car.

As he watched her race away in a late model Cadillac, Raylan made his way up the steps to the entry of the house and rang the doorbell. A burly, graying man in sweats answered the door, leaving the screen door latched between them.

"Mr. Dumois?" Raylan tried again with Anna's presumed father.

"That's Dumois," the man corrected Raylan's American pronunciation of 'Du-moy' to the French dialect of 'Du-mwah.'

"My apologies," Raylan sounded very sincere. "I was wonderin' if I might have a discussion with ya' about the whereabouts of your daughter, Anna?"

The man bristled. "Who wants to know and why?"

Raylan went straight to the point. "I don't mean to cause you or your family any trouble, but I only recently discovered that your adopted daughter, Anna, might very well be my biological half-sister."

The black, French Creole man looked the tall, white stranger up and down in disbelief.

"Ya' see, my parents are both dead now, and I came across our family bible in their things that contained a notation about the birth of your daughter. Her date of birth is September 8th . . . 1971," Raylan rambled nervously, digging the locket out of his pocket. "And I came across this, too."

Raylan opened his mother's locket and showed it to the man through the screen.

The man looked at the picture of the black baby in the locket. It certainly resembled his daughter. The date of birth was correct, too.

"Elstin Limehouse of Noble's Holler, Kentucky told me all about the adoption," Raylan further explained. "Knowin' all my kin is now deceased, he figured it would do no harm for me to try and make contact now."

Breaking the sustained, no-response silence, Raylan spoke once again. "My name is Raylan Givens. I'm a Deputy U.S. Marshal assigned to the Lexington, Kentucky office," he explained, pulling one of his cards out of his wallet and showing it to the man through the screen, hoping he would open the door to take it. He did not. "But I'm not here on any kind of an official capacity. I only want to find out if it's true. If, in fact, I have a biological half-sister. Ya' see, I grew up as an only child. My family's now all gone, except I now have a baby girl."

A surprise to Raylan, a dry lump formed in Raylan's throat, as his heart began to beat out of his chest.

"Well, I'm sorry you had to drive all this way," the man finally spoke again, "only to find out that my daughter is also deceased." The man hung his head.

Not the answer Raylan was expecting to hear, he quickly tried to gather his scattering thoughts. "Wouldya mind tellin' me what happened to her?"

"Marshal Givens," the man cleared his throat, looking Raylan straight in the eye. "Sometimes, it's best to let sleepin' dogs lie."

And with that, the man firmly closed the front door in Raylan's face, leaving him standing there, alone on the landing. Raylan could then hear the man engaging the locks on the door. He left his card in one of the outer slats of the screen door.

The walk back to his car was a long one. He felt out of body, deeply disappointed, and surprised he had allowed himself to become so invested in this meeting.

Once back inside his car, he glanced at the clock on his dashboard. He had a lot of time to kill before meeting Winona and Willa for lunch and was not looking forward to having that conversation with Winona about how it all went. Suddenly remembering that there were dry counties in Georgia as there were in Kentucky, he decided to head back to the motel room for a late check-out and to retrieve his bottle of whiskey.

_(To be continued . . .)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

_Dead End_

"Givens." Raylan answered his cell by rote, yet in a state of confusion. He scrubbed his face with his hand, and quickly glanced at the motel clock on the nightstand.

"Raylan? Where are you?"

"Winona." It read 12:50 p.m. He must have dozed off longer than intended.

"I'm here, waiting for you at the Food Court," she went on. "I don't mean to interrupt your meeting or anything, but I'm anxious to find out how things are going. How much longer do you think you'll be?" This was her way of saying she was worried about him.

"I've got some bad news," he prefaced what he was about to say; grateful they weren't face to face.

After a beat she asked, "Wha? What kind of bad news?"

"Anna's no longer with us." He cleared his throat and took another swig of whisky from his glass, diluted from the water formed from melted ice. "She's deceased."

"Oh, my God," Winona gasped. "What happened to her? When?"

"I dunno. Mr. Dumois didn't wanna talk about it."

"I'm so sorry, Raylan. Are you okay?"

"I _will_ be." He sat up and swung his long legs to the side of the bed. "To be honest with ya,' I had a bad feelin' about this one."

"I know you did." After a pause, she added, "And I'm the one who built up your hopes, only to have them let down."

"I'm a lawman," he said. "Hope is not somethin' that goes with my job. And besides, it's good you're more optimistic than me. It'll be good for Willa to see both sides of the coin."

"Thanks. I never thought about it that way," she said.

"I'll be there in a few minutes to pick up you and Willa."

"Would you like for me to grab you something for lunch from the Food Court, To Go?"

"I'm not hungry," he answered. "But thanks for askin'."

"Anytime," she said.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

The late check-out turned into a stay for another night. Despite what he said, Raylan was in no condition to drive to Miami. Winona convinced him that it was better for them to make a fresh start the next day, after the morning traffic rush cleared.

Raylan brought in the new port-o-crib from the car, which made for a nice, clean bed for Willa and doubled as a playpen. Expensive, it was a nifty, lightweight model that required no assembly. Winona didn't have one in Miami. It would become even more useful in the months to come. That night, Winona fed Willa, gave her a bath, and dressed her in one of her new, larger sleepers. She was an extra good baby this day, almost as if she knew her parents needed some time to themselves. Willa went to bed with very little effort on Winona's part.

"There's nothin' to eat around here, is there?" Raylan asked, sorry he'd passed on lunch earlier in the day. Both passed on dinner.

"Luckily, I didn't listen to you," she said.

"Please, don't ever listen to me," he smiled. "I'm often wrong."

Returning the smile, she said, "I have some soft pretzels in my bag from the Food Court . . . and some Mrs. Field's cookies."

"Chocolate chip? Peanut Butter?" He could hope.

"And Snicker Doodles," she answered.

"Your favorite. Of course. I'll take a pretzel, first" he decided.

Winona rifled through her hobo bag and retrieved two wrapped pretzels along with packets of honey mustard.

Raylan was so hungry, the big, cold pretzel tasted amazingly good. He washed it down with some more of his whiskey on ice. Winona, who had eaten only about a third of her pretzel, offered the rest of hers to him.

"Are ya' sure?" he asked.

"I had a big lunch," she answered. "You didn't. And besides, I bought five big cookies for the price of three." She went back to her bag and retrieved the cookies. Not surprisingly, she went straight for one of the Snicker Doodles. She decided to chase it with water as her beverage of choice, thinking she'd let Raylan drink whiskey if he wanted. She could drive them into Miami if need be.

Raylan chased the second pretzel with one of the Snicker Doodles, deciding they should save the other cookies for the road. He was lying in bed with his back propped up on the headboard. Winona dimmed the light on the bedside lamp as she crawled in the bed beside him.

"How are you doing, Cowboy?" She nuzzled him, placing her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her. "You know, Willa and I are your family now." She looked up at him with sparkling blue eyes.

"Yeah, ya' are," he spoke low so as not to wake the baby. And he cupped her chin in his hand and lowered his mouth to meet hers.

The cinnamon and sugar from the Snicker Doodles swirled in their mouths as their tongues co-mingled, leading the way to an urgent embrace. Soon, their fully clothed pelvises were pressed together, moving in time with their increasingly heavy breaths. Their desire to merge continued to build as they undressed one another, writhing against each other all the while. Breathless, Raylan reached down on the floor and grabbed his jeans to fish his wallet out of the back pocket. He pulled a condom from the billfold, and Winona took it from him and seductively rolled it on. He was ready and so was she, and she guided him inside her. From above her, he entered her in three agonizingly slow movements that literally took her breath away.

She made him forget about his day, if only for a little while. They kissed and caressed. His fingertips combed the tresses around her face. His skilled attention led her to release twice before he followed her over the edge the second time. Shaking, spent, and intoxicated by both his much needed release and the whiskey, Raylan was asleep in no time, snoring softly.

Raylan was a strong man. He could take care of himself. No one knew that better than Winona. But even Raylan, the lawman who didn't need anyone, could have used a sibling. Winona couldn't fathom her life without Gayle. Sure, the sisters would sometimes fight or disagree about things, but when push came to shove, Winona knew she could always count on her sister to have her back. It saddened her to learn that Raylan would never have that in his life.

Covering them with a blanket, Winona pulled Raylan's sleeping form towards her so that his head rested on her shoulder, and her head gently rested on the top of his. She protectively wrapped her arms, legs, and her body around his and held him close to her, as they slept through the night.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

As planned, Raylan and Winona woke up before Willa, got dressed and fed and dressed the baby before leaving checking out and heading for breakfast. Both were famished. Raylan had a mild hangover and was not happy about being outside in the bright sunshine headed for more in the Sunshine State. Neither was Willa.

Winona claimed the driver's seat, while Raylan stretched out in the backseat on the passenger side, hiding his eyes from the glare of the early morning sun with the brim of the hat. He was able to situate the hood of Willa's car seat to keep the sun out of her eyes, too.

"She's just like me," he announced from the backseat to Winona. "I think she needs a Stetson."

Winona laughed as she pulled onto the interstate. Traffic was much lighter. "She's also got your big head," Winona added, looking at him through the rear view through her dark glasses.

"Gee, thanks a lot," Raylan miffed.

"No. Seriously. Her head circumference continues to be in the 78th percentile," she knowledgeably reported. "And I felt every centimeter when she was coming out," she added under her breath.

"Do say." Raylan closed his eyes. "It means she's a smart girl." He handed Willa the monkey that she had dropped on the seat. She smiled and giggled with delight as she grabbed her friend and brought it closer.

Raylan's cell phone buzzed, and he reached inside the pocket of his denim jacket and glanced at the unfamiliar number before answering, "Givens."

"Is this Deputy Marshal Givens, from the Lexington, Kentucky office?" The voice was low, quiet, as if the speaker didn't want anyone else to hear.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you yesterday morning."

"Mrs. Dumois?" Raylan guessed, remembering to use the French pronunciation.

"I know what André told you, Marshal, but my daughter is _not_ dead."

"Then, why...?" Raylan started.

"My husband is a foolish and angry man. I'm sorry he took our family problems out on you. I can't talk long. If he hears me talking to you, the fur will fly."

"Can ya' put me in touch with _her_?"

There was a short pause. "I'll see what I can do. Now, I have to go. I'll call you again when I can." The phone went dead.

Observing Raylan's strange demeanor as he disconnected the call, Winona asked, "Who was that?"

"That was Marguerite Dumois. Anna's mother," he answered, placing the phone back inside his jacket pocket. "She says Anna _isn't_ dead."

"But I don't understand," Winona said in disbelief.

"Me neither," he said. "It makes no sense. It was as if she couldn't talk to me for fear her husband would overhear her. She said she'd call me back when she can."

"When will that be?" she asked, very aware she was driving them towards Florida, away from Marietta.

"Winona . . . I'm sorry. I dunno. I'm tellin' ya' what she told me." He took off his hat, let out a long sigh, and raked his fingers through his hair.

"Well . . . what do you want to do?" she asked, trying to sound supportive. She felt for him being played on an emotional yo-yo.

"I dunno," he looked at her looking at him through the rear view. "I suppose we should kinda stay put until I do hear from her."

"Do you want me to turn around and head back towards Marietta?" She would do whatever he needed to do.

"Did we just cross into Fulton County?" he answered her with another question.

"Yeah. About 10 exits ago," she answered. "Why?"

"We might as well find us a nicer place to stay tonight," he was thinking out loud. "Maybe a place with a pool, athletic club. Amenities. Restaurants nearby. You know, a hotel."

"Sure. We could do that."

"Would ya' mind if we just planned on stickin' around another night?" he asked, feeling her out.

"No, not all," she again tried to sound supportive. "Look, there's a Marriott coming up in a couple of exits. Would a Residence Inn be too expensive?"

"No," he said. "Sounds perfect. We might as well relax while we wait."

"Good," she said. "I could even stop at a grocery store and pick up a few things. Some more food for Willa. Maybe make us some pasta with some good bread and a salad. Pick up some wine and another bottle of bourbon?"

He smiled. "God bless ya', woman."

"I'll call Mama and let her know we'll be delayed for a day or two but that we're fine," she said, pulling over to the far right lane in anticipation of the up and coming exit. "That way, she won't worry."

"Good idea," he said.

Keeping busy would be a good way to pass the time. It was certainly better than sitting and waiting for the phone to ring.

"Hey," he called out from the back seat. "By the way . . . _thank you_."

"You can owe me, Cowboy," she said with a grin. She only wished she could do more.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

The Residence Inn had a large enclosed pool, with a kiddie slide and lanes for lap swimmers. Raylan didn't have swimming trunks, so he sat in one of the deck chairs, sipping whiskey from one of the hotel coffee mugs, boots on and his cell phone close by.

He watched Winona play with Willa in the pool. The baby splashed and laughed, and Winona was very careful not to let any water get in her ears. When Willa tired, Winona wrapped them both in a towel and discreetly nursed her until she fell asleep. She leaned back in the lounge chair, holding her baby and noticing as Raylan checked his cell phone for the fourth or fifth time.

"I'm sure she'll call."

Raylan nodded and looked at the time. "She was just leavin' as I got there yesterday. Told me she was late for school. Looked to me like she was a teacher. What time does school get out?"

"I don't know. Three?" she guessed. It was around 2:30 now.

"Why would André Dumois lie to me about his daughter bein' dead?" Raylan wondered out loud. His first contact with his sister's adoptive family left him with more questions than answers.

The cell phone on the table buzzed, and he grabbed for it, reading the number. "Shit," he said. "It's Art." He touched 'ignore' and let his boss go to voicemail.

"Do you think that was wise?" Winona asked.

"I don't wanna be talkin' to him when Marguerite calls." He set the phone back down.

Winona reached over and squeezed his hand. "She'll call," she said again.

He squeezed back and took another sip of whiskey, trying to relax, but the drink wasn't cutting it. He was about to suggest they head back up to the room and take advantage of Willa's naptime, when the door to the pool area opened and three boys burst through followed by their harried looking parents.

A skinny red-headed boy of about six cheered, "Wow! Lookatthatslide!"

"Last one in's a rotten egg!" Another boy, bigger with the same carrot-top ran after him.

The last boy was about four, still chubby with baby-fat. He trailed behind his brothers, pouting. "Hey, no fair, wait for me!"

"Boys!" The mother called. "No running!" She glanced at Raylan and Winona, noticing the baby sleeping.

"I am so sorry," she said, shaking her head. "We've been in the car since five this morning."

Taking a flying leap, one of the boys cannon-balled into the pool, the water splashing up to the end of Winona's lounge and dangerously near Raylan's boots.

The father glared at the pool, hands on his hips. "Jacob!" He yelled, his voice loud in the enclosed space. "Get your butt over here." The boy's eyes widened, and he swam to the edge. The father met him, and leaning over, grabbed the child's arm and hauled him out of the pool. "How could you be so stupid?" He continued yelling. "You got these folks all wet." Still gripping the boy he half-walked half-dragged him over to Raylan. "Apologize."

"S-s-sorry," the boy stuttered.

He stared down at his son. "You call that an apology?" The boy's eyes filled, all the excitement and happiness of moments before forgotten.

"It's fine," Winona said. "We didn't get wet."

Tightening his grip on his son's arm, he repeated, "Apologize like you mean it."

Raylan stood, stepping toward the two and Winona held her breath, not wanting a confrontation.

"I'm very s-s-sorry, Ma'am." Wide eyes slid up to his father, seeking approval.

"Better, but not much."

Raylan found his voice. "Don'tcha think you're bein' a little hard on him? No one got hurt."

"It's been a long day," the mother added, her arm wrapped around the youngest boy.

"You keep your damn mouth shut, Gina," he snapped. "And you..." he glared at Raylan. "How I choose to discipline my boy is none of your business." He turned to his wife. "Get 'em together. We're goin' back to the room."

"Mark...we just..."

He shot her a look and her mouth closed like a trap, then opened. "Come on, boys." None of the boys complained, but Jacob caught Raylan's eye as he followed his parents out the door. Raylan stared after them until he felt Winona's hand on his arm.

"You okay?"

He clenched and unclenched his fists at his side.

Knowing he was caught up in bad memories of Arlo, Winona shifted the bundle in her arms. "Here," she said. "Would you hold her while I get our things together?" She met his eyes and smiled, holding out the baby.

It was just what he needed. Raylan took his daughter, dipping his head to hers. "I'll _never_ talk to ya' that way. I swear."

As Winona slipped into her cover-up and stooped to pick up the extra towel, Raylan's cell buzzed. She picked up the phone and handed it to him.

He took it, holding it between his chin and shoulder while keeping a grasp on Willa. "Hello?"

"Marshal Givens? This is Marguerite Dumois."

"Call me Raylan," he said. "I'm so glad ya' called."

"Alright, Raylan." She didn't waste any time. "My husband works this evening. I thought we could meet for an early dinner, if you're still in town."

"We are," he said.

"Where are you staying?" she asked, remembering he was from out of town.

"Just over the Fulton County Line, but we can meet ya' anywhere ya' like."

"Good. I have a friend who has a restaurant not far from you on Clark. Mallorca. Spanish cuisine, very good. I can meet you there at 5:30."

"We'll be there. And thank you."

"You're welcome," she said and disconnected.

"Good news?" Winona asked, as they walked toward the elevators and back to their room.

He nodded. "We're goin' out to dinner."

_(To be continued . . .)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

_Similarities_

Rather than brave the city traffic at rush hour, they took a taxi to the restaurant, buckling Willa's carrier into the seat between them. Mallorca was nestled on a tree-lined side street in the northeast section of the city. There was a patio in front with wrought iron tables and chairs separated by tall pots of ferns and flowers to give privacy. In the entryway and bar, the walls were painted bright colors and a pathway covered in colorful mosaic tile led into the large main dining area. Booths lined one wall and heavy wooden tables with mismatched chairs were scattered around the middle of the room.

A woman Raylan recognized as Mrs. Dumois waved to them from a curved booth tucked into a corner. She rose as they approached, holding out a hand to first Raylan, then Winona. "Marguerite Dumois," she said. "Please call me Margie." In person, she had a pleasing lilt to her voice, typical of New Orleans, and not as noticeable over the phone.

He said, "This is Winona and our daughter, Willa."

Introductions made, they sat and the waiter quickly brought a wooden seat to hold Willa's carrier. Winona produced a teething ring and the stuffed monkey and the baby settled in, contentedly gnawing.

"My, she's a pretty, delicate little thing," Marguerite politely noted, studying her daughter's possible niece.

Trying to make pleasant conversation, Raylan quickly responded with, "And she gets all of that from her mama."

Winona gave an awkward smile. It was an awkward situation they all found themselves in.

"Anna was tall, even as an infant," Marguerite shared. "Were you always tall as a child, Raylan?"

Raylan smiled. "I can't remember if I was always tall as a child or not. I was raised as an only. Had no siblin's around me to compare myself to. I guess maybe I was standin' on the top riser in our class pictures," he recalled.

"Didn't you tell me your Aunt Helen told you that your height came from your Mama's side of the family?" Winona interjected.

"Yeah, I guess she did," he said.

Changing the tone, Margie stared at the table for a moment, then raised her eyes to Raylan's. "I'm sorry about my husband," she said, quietly. "I don't know what your family is like, Marshal, but ours is - complicated."

Winona and Raylan exchanged a smile, not unnoticed by the older woman.

"I suppose everyone's is, in one way or another." She sighed, folding her hands in front of her. "André and I have been together since we were teenagers. Got married when I was seventeen and he was nineteen. André had the mumps as a boy, so we knew that there might not be any children. What did we care? We were crazy in love. His mama cared though, and she was in the Catholic League. When the baby – our Anna – became available, she helped us arrange the adoption. When she was four, though, I did get pregnant, and we had twins." She smiled, showing white, even teeth. "André Jr., Andy – calls himself Dré now, and Rosalie."

Raylan, was bored with the family history, ready to interrupt, when the waiter did just that, asking for their drink order.

"The Sangria is wonderful," Margie advised.

Raylan declined, ordering a beer, but Winona decided to try the Sangria. Margie asked for coffee.

As soon as the waiter left, Raylan got to the point. "Why did your husband tell me that Anna is dead?"

"I'm gettin' to that. Patience, Marshal." Margie reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. She took two pictures from the stack, sliding them across the table. "That's Anna, with Andy and Rosalie the Easter after they were born."

Raylan took the photo, holding it up so Winona could see it, too. The pretty little girl, in a white Easter bonnet and frilly peach-colored dress, sat between two babies, each holding a stuffed rabbit. In the second picture, one of the babies was on her lap and the other was crying.

"I can't imagine twins," Winona said, casting a glance at Willa, still happy with her monkey.

Margie nodded. "I don't remember a lot about that first year or so. Diapers and spit-up, mostly." But her eyes twinkled, and it was clear that most of her memories were happy ones. She looked from Winona to Raylan, studying him. "I already see that my Anna has a similar bone structure, build. Those long fingers..." she stopped when the waiter arrived with their drinks. At his suggestion, they all ordered the shellfish _cazuela_.

Raylan took a long pull from his beer, not bothering with the glass. His gaze was on Mrs. Dumois.

"Anna is impatient, too," she said. "Always was." She took a sip of coffee and set her cup down too hard, liquid sloshing over the edge and into the saucer. "Do you know much about New Orleans?"

Raylan shook his head. "Only been there once, almost twenty years ago."

"Well, it's a beautiful town, but like many beautiful things, it can be rotten underneath." She wrapped her hands around her cup. "André was a NOLA police officer and got himself caught up in the crap that goes on there." She waved a hand in the air dismissively.

"I remember readin' after Katrina that the New Orleans PD was pretty corrupt," Raylan said.

"And the District Attorney's office, too." Her mouth set grimly before she went on. "It's not like André was the only one, but in the aftermath of the storm, they made a show about cleaning things up, and he was one of the ones tossed out. Kept his retirement, barely, but lost his position, and his sense of who he was." She shook her head. "Never could follow the rules, that man."

Winona's eyes caught Raylan's then slid away.

"Was he wrongly accused?"

"No, I'm pretty sure he wasn't, although he never shared with me. André always had money. I suppose my sin is being grateful enough to have it that I wasn't asking him where it came from."

"So, he was on the take."

She shrugged. "Anna worshiped that man. She was so disappointed in him. Things were said," she paused. "You know how it is in families. He asked for her help, and she turned him down. Said he got what he deserved, probably more. Told him he should be in jail."

"How would Anna have been able to help him?" Raylan asked. "Is she a lawyer?"

"No, but she...had connections." Margie changed the subject. "Are you musical?"

"Me? Heh, no," Raylan chuckled. "I like it well enough, but I can't sing a note."

"I'll vouch for that," Winona said with a grin.

"Anna's not a singer, but she's a fine pianist," Margie's pride was obvious. "She could have made a career of it, but she didn't."

"What _does_ she do?"

"I think I'll leave that to her to tell you," she said, shutting him down again. "If she wants to. I haven't contacted her yet. I wanted to meet you, first."

Raylan supposed that was fair. She was only being protective of her daughter. He tried another direction. "How much did ya' know about the baby's birth family?"

"Not much," she said. "That was long before all this 'open adoption' they do nowadays. I suppose my mother-in-law might know something."

"She's still livin'?" Raylan did the math and supposed she'd be close to eighty or more.

"Yes, in New Orleans. She wouldn't move with us. Her daughter, André's youngest sister, stayed, too. Not in the family home anymore, the flood destroyed it when the levees broke. She's in an apartment, but it suits her fine."

"Wouldya' be willing to ask her if she remembers anything?"

Mrs. Dumois studied him for a moment. "I could. I talk to her more than my husband does anyway. He'd never call unless I reminded him."

"I'd appreciate it."

The waiter arrived, setting three steaming plates filled to the brim with rice, shellfish, shrimp, and crabmeat all in a garlicky sauce. Raylan ordered another beer to drink with the meal and the conversation halted while they all ate. It was every bit as delicious as the waiter had promised, and Raylan finished the whole plate before Winona made a dent in hers.

"I guess I was hungry," he said, a little self-conscious.

"Well, you didn't have much of a dinner last night, or lunch today," Winona reminded him.

"My husband upset you," Margie surmised.

"It's not every day ya' learn ya' have a half-sister out there, somewhere," he explained.

"And then to come all this way and to hear she's dead," Margie extended her hand to his forearm which lay on top of the table, as if to brace him, give him strength. "Again, I am so, so sorry. That was a cruel, unthoughtful thing for you to hear. I wish to God it hadn't happened."

"Thank ya' for that," Raylan nodded, his jaw set firm. "I'm happy for your sake it's not true."

Hearing the seeds of self-protective doubt in the Marshal's voice, Margie pulled out some more recent pictures of Anna from the envelope.

"I want to show you these so that you can see what I see in you … and in Anna," she said.

Raylan and Winona pawed over the small stack of photos over various sizes, taken at various ages. As Margie described irrelevant names of prom dates and details of vacation spots, all Raylan could do was to study the woman in the photographs as if he was studying a suspect.

"Oh, my," Winona gasped, putting her fingers to her lips. "She is one gorgeous woman. Anna looks like your Aunt Helen in this one. Don't you think?"

"Maybe," Raylan responded in a cautious tone, as he continued to flip through the rest of the pictures, unconvinced.

"I have some minimal information I found about the adoption in Kentucky," he shared with Margie. "I'm happy to share with you whatever I know." He felt like this was a night of 'tit for tat.' Each taking turns and sharing information to keep things rolling . . . or to shut it all down.

Margie did ask questions, and Raylan openly shared everything he knew. Raylan's ease with who he was put Margie somewhat at ease. She was convinced that the man was looking for his half-sister . . . that his intentions were true.

At one point, Winona left for the ladies' room to nurse a fussy Willa, leaving Margie and Raylan alone.

"I want to thank you for coming to meet me and allowing me a chance to get to know you," she offered. "I now feel I can contact Anna in good faith."

"Ya' mean I passed the test?" he nervously grinned.

That grin. There was something about that grin that reminded Margie of her Anna. Something in the eyes.

"You passed with flying colors," she said. "I'll call her tonight and give her your number. And I'll at least let you know what you can expect next. Whether Anna wants to proceed or needs some time. Other than that, Anna is a grown woman and will do as she wishes."

"I can't ask ya' for more than that," Raylan said with sincerity. "Thank you."

When Winona and a still fussy Willa returned, Raylan quickly picked up the tab for all. The Maitre D' called for a cab, and they all walked outside of the restaurant to wait, sparing the ears of the other patrons. Margie had offered to give them a ride to their hotel but Raylan declined, wanting her to be free to make that call to her daughter, sooner rather than later. He walked Margie safely to her car.

After their goodnights, Margie remained sitting her car for a moment and carefully observed the Marshal as he walked away. That walk. That slow, graceful, fluid walk. It was a distinctive walk. Oh, how it reminded her of Anna. She fished her cell phone out of her purse to call her daughter.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

At the Residence Inn, Willa continued to cry and fuss and fuss. She was inconsolable. They were relieved that at least their unit was on the end of their building with no common walls.

The crying jag went on for hours. Willa didn't want to eat. A bath did not soothe her. Even her beloved monkey was quickly tossed to the floor by the unhappy infant, along with a full bottle. She didn't want the breast, either. Finally, Winona relented to the dreaded Tylenol, but after twenty minutes or so, it didn't seem to make any difference. Winona kept checking Willa's forehead. She wasn't warm. She checked her diaper. No rash, and the baby was peeing just fine. Raylan and Winona took turns keeping her changed and dry.

"Do ya' think it's her teeth?" Like Winona, Raylan was running out of ideas and was exhausted.

"I don't know," Winona said, pacing the floor with the babe. "It came on so fast at the restaurant."

"The Tylenol clearly didn't work. Do ya' wanna try rubbin' bourbon on her gums?" he sheepishly suggested, not knowing how it would be received.

Winona let out a frustrated sigh. "Sure. Why not? Here, you do it." And she passed off their daughter to her daddy.

Handing her back, Raylan said, "Let me wash my hands first."

After washing up, Raylan poured some of the bourbon into a clean glass and set it on a nearby table. He took his little one from her mama. "C'mere, you," he said, holding her in a firm football grip. "Let's try some of the good stuff. I'll have you know, I don't share this with just anyone."

Winona giggled.

He took a seat and dipped his index finger into the glass and rubbed the bourbon, first into her lower gums … and repeated it on the upper ones. Willa stopped fussing.

"Yeah, you like this stuff, don't ya'?" he smiled with satisfaction.

"Me, too," said Winona. "I was going have some wine tonight, but now I feel like some of the hard stuff."

"No-no-no. Not so fast," Raylan stopped her from heading toward his bottle. "I said, I don't share my bottle with just anyone."

"Since when did I become _just anyone_?" she purred with a grin, appreciating the lighter mood and the sudden quiet.

Willa chomped down on Raylan's liquor coated finger.

"You're not," he answered. "I just wanted to see you smile."

She proceeded to the kitchen counter and poured herself a bourbon. "You want one?" she asked as she went to the fridge for some ice.

"Sure," he said. "I figure we're good here so long as my finger holds out. It must be hard having so many teeth come in. I really do feel bad for her."

"I know. It's a wonder any of us made it through our childhoods." Winona placed his drink beside him. He picked it up.

Raising her glass, Winona gave a toast. "Here's to the family who drinks whiskey together."

Raylan chuckled as he took a sip. "Somethin' tells me my kin would have approved."

"As would mine," Winona winced as she swallowed down the strong proofed liquor.

Raylan continued to dip his finger into the glass and offer it to his baby who readily took to it.

"Did Art ever call you back?" Winona asked, curling up in the chair next to him.

"He left me a message sayin' that Marguerite called the Lexington office to check me out," he answered. "Can't say I blame her."

"Was that all he wanted?" she asked, nursing her drink and enjoying the early morning quiet.

"Apparently," he said. "I haven't heard from him since which is always a good sign. Besides, I'm doin' my duty. I'm on vacation, savin' the US Tax Payers' money."

He glanced at the clock. It was almost 4:00 a.m. "So much for my plan to make love to ya' every night we're on the road." He looked over at Winona. "I doubt very seriously I'll make it past the first two minutes after my head hits the pillow." He took another sip of bourbon.

"Was that really your plan?" she smiled. "It's a good one."

"Well, I certainly wasn't gonna do it over at your mama's."

"Yeah, she does kinda cramp our style."

"Is she doin' alright?" Raylan asked.

"Thank you for asking," she began, laying her head on the back of her chair. "She's just fine. She appreciates me calling and keeping her posted on what's going on. She's pretty easy to please these days."

Willa continued to nom on Raylan's finger, still wide awake.

"I feel another late checkout coming on," she said, reaching for her glass and stifling a yawn.

"That's a safe bet," he concurred. "Besides, you owe me a pasta dinner, remember?"

"And you owe me a night of wild abandon," she purred.

He chuckled. "I'd love to pay that debt."

"You know, while I'm sorry for the stress of this situation with you learning you have a half-sister . . . I really have enjoyed all of this time together with you and Willa. We really do feel like a family. We just needed the time to allow it to happen."

"I suppose that was what Art was gettin' at. I hate it when he's right, but he was on this one. Forcin' me to take time off. It's exactly what we needed."

He glanced down at Willa who was settling in against his chest, her eyelids finally becoming heavy. "Well, would ya' look at that," he spoke very low. "I think she's finally losin' her battle to stay awake."

Winona drew her legs up in the chair, loving the vision of Raylan taking care of Willa, giving her what she needed. "You're so good with her."

"As are you," he whispered, his finger slowly falling out of Willa's sleeping mouth. "It's actually pretty easy. I mean, she's ours."

In a few minutes, Raylan was able to carefully transfer Willa into the port-o-crib and called the Front Desk to arrange for another night's stay. He joined Winona who was already under the covers and gave her a kiss, teasing her with his tongue.

"My mind is willin' to ravage you, but my body's sayin' no way," he growled in her neck as his heavy head found the pillow.

Winona snuggled into him and drowsily murmured, "I'll take a rain check, Cowboy."

_(To be continued . . .)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

_The Morning Run_

Anna's feet hit the pavement in a rhythmic _slap slap_. The steady beat matched the music blaring from her ear-buds and when the song changed she picked up the pace, turning at the corner and making her third pass at the Lincoln Monument. Glancing up, she took in the statue of the famous man. In the seven years she'd lived here, it never ceased to take her breath away. She refocused, concentrating on her breathing, letting the music carry her along even though her legs were begging her to stop. The reflecting pool on her left, she ran back toward the spire of the Washington Monument, still shrouded in scaffolding from earthquake damage.

Passing the monument, she checked her watch and slowed gradually to a walk. She tugged the ear-buds out and swiped a hand across her forehead, wiping the sweat off on her shirt. Leaning against a post, she stretched briefly, then walked quickly up Constitution Avenue to C. Street. She pulled a twenty from the zippered pocket of her shorts and paid for two large coffees at the corner shop.

Letting herself into the apartment she headed straight to the bedroom, setting one of the coffees on the glass and chrome nightstand and nudging the lump under the covers with a foot.

"Up and at 'em," she said.

No response.

She toed off her running shoes and nudged the lump again. This time a hand snaked out from under the covers, grabbing her foot and tugging her down onto the bed.

"Rowwrrrr," her attacker growled, flipping her over and grinning down from above. "I love it when you're all hot and sweaty."

She laughed. "Come on, Adam, let me up. I gotta get to work."

His lips trailed down her neck. "I can be quick," he murmured.

"Since when is that an asset?"

Bright blue-green eyes twinkled down at her under a mop of sandy blonde hair. "Since you gotta get to work," he said, tugging at her shorts and covering her mouth with his.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

A half-hour later, showered and, dressed for work in gray slacks and a bright magenta blouse that set off her mocha skin, Anna wandered out into the kitchen. Her dark curly hair was pulled back in a neat twist and as she walked she slipped simple pearl studs in each ear. Adam sat at the kitchen bar in gym shorts, the morning's _Post _and a bagel in front of him. She kissed his stubbly cheek and stole half the bagel, taking a bite and talking around it. "What's on your agenda today?"

"I work lunch. Then, we got rehearsal tonight. You?"

She made a face. "I gotta write up that report for Finchbaugh."

"Sorry."

"Yeah, well, I put it off as long as I could." She sighed and reached into the fridge for the glass pitcher of orange juice. Pouring herself a glass, she drank half and handed him the rest. "I gotta go."

"Okay," he stood, wrapping his arms around her and planting a quick kiss on her forehead. "I'll see ya' when I see ya'."

On her way out she glanced at her phone. "Hmm. My mother called last night. I wonder what she wanted?"

"Tell her I said 'hey'," Adam grinned.

Anna rolled her eyes in response. "Yeah, sure. That'd go over well."

She listened to her mother's voicemail in the elevator. Twice. After the usual motherly questions the message got interesting. _"If you're still looking to find your birth family I think I may have some information for you. Call me on my cell. I have a break at ten."_

She slid her card through the gate at the Metro ad boarded the red line for the short ride to work, thinking about her mother's words. Anna had always known she was adopted. Her parents never hid it. They made it sound special. She was wanted. She was chosen. It wasn't until she was a teenager that she realized in order for them to choose her, someone else had to reject her first. Why? Why didn't her birth-mother want her? That was the question she'd brooded and agonized about during middle and high school.

Her searches on and off since then had turned up nothing. She'd always thought her father knew more than he would tell her. Mama understood why she needed to know, but Daddy always took it as a personal affront. Maybe now she would finally have the answers she wanted.

She got to the office a little after eight and started right in on the report. Glancing at her notes, she wrote up the observations she'd made over the last few weeks, added some research and analysis, and finalized it with her opinion. She saved the document and flagged it, encrypted it, and attached it to an e-mail for her boss, H. Talbot Finchbaugh, the head of the department.

Eying the clock, she headed for the break room, punching up her contacts and clicking on her mother's number. She poured the coffee while she waited for her to answer.

"Hello, dear," her mother said.

"Hi, Mom. Hang on a minute." Clutching her coffee and her phone, she slipped out the door and took the stairs two at a time to the door leading out onto the roof. Sinking into one of the deck chairs they'd dragged up here for the fresh air, she stole a sip of coffee. "You still there?"

"I'm here."

"What's going on?"

"A man stopped by the house the other day..." Anna listened as her mother told her about the visitor – a man named Raylan Givens – a U.S. Marshal – who thought he could be her half-brother.

"And anyway, I think he might be right. There are a lot of physical similarities, and, well, he reminds me of you in other ways, too," she finished. When Anna didn't respond her mother went on. "Do you want his number?"

She took another sip, swallowing the bitter brew. "Um, yeah. I guess." Now that what she had wished for was so close she felt odd, uncertain. She fished in her pocket for a pen. No paper, so she turned her arm and wrote the numbers her mother read off on the inside of her wrist.

"Your father doesn't know I'm calling you." Marguerite clued in her daughter.

Anna sighed. "And are we surprised? No, not really." After a beat, she added an understanding, "Don't worry. He'll never find out. Hey, thanks for the heads up, Mom."

"Of course." Another beat and then, "Are you going to call him, Marshal Givens?"

"Yeah, sure. I probably will." But she was going to make one more phone call first.

"Hey, Ben," Anna said when her friend answered. "Could you look up someone for me? It's up your alley. He's a Marshal – Raylan Givens? I think he's assigned to Lexington, Kentucky."

"I can do that. You want it on e-mail?"

"Yeah, but send it to my personal address, not work. You still have that?"

"Yep, it's right here, next to the pieces of my broken heart," he joked. "Did you say Givens?"

"Yeah, Raylan Givens."

"Name's familiar. I think I heard the Assistant Director mention him the other day. She wasn't happy," he said. "But then, she rarely is."

"I don't want to get you in trouble," Anna said.

"I'm a big boy."

"I remember."

"Then, you remember what you're missing." There was a pause. "You still seeing that musician? What's his name again?"

"Adam – and yes, I'm still seeing him."

"Well, shit. Guess I'll have to renew my membership to after all," he chuckled. "I'll try to get this to you by this afternoon."

"Thanks, Ben, I appreciate it."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Willa awoke at her usual time of 7 a.m., none the worse for her lack of sleep. The same could not be said for Raylan and Winona, who were startled awake by the baby's laughter.

"She's happy?" Raylan groaned. He looked at the clock. "Three hours sleep and she's happy? I'm not happy."

"Me, either," Winona agreed, yawning. "Maybe if we stay really quiet she'll go back to sleep."

"Worth a try," Raylan said. He spooned her from behind, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. They both drifted off.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma!" Willa screeched from her new digs, demanding attention.

"Thank God she wants _you_." Raylan put the pillow over his head, holding it there to drown out the noise.

"No. She only wants my boob," Winona joined him, hiding under his pillow, making sure he could hear her. "Sometimes I feel like a cow. Which is why I started pumping. So that someone other than me can feed her."

Eyes still closed, he asked, "Is _someone other than me_ supposed to be _me_?"

"It's the least you can do after leaving me alone with her . . . all those months." She was mumbling with her eyes shut, too.

"Ouch," he said in a flat, low voice. "I can't believe you'd actually play the guilt card."

"All's fair in a new mom's chronic sleep deprivation," she expanded. "You've barely gotten a taste of days and nights with no sleep."

They fell silent again, as Willa continued to incessantly babble in the background.

Finally, Raylan said, "Well, shit," again under his breath. "I surrender."

As he slid out of bed, Winona turned her head the other way, remaining hidden under the pillow. Barefoot and wearing his underwear, he first stumbled into the bathroom to relieve himself, grab a t-shirt and pull it over his head before making his way to his baby.

"Good mornin', Sunshine," he greeted a still smiling Willa as he bent down to the port-a-crib to pick her up, his eyes still heavy. Upon picking her up, he could immediately tell her diaper was heavy. "Let's get ya' changed and fed."

He grabbed the diaper bag, placing his cell in one of the pockets and the monkey in another, and whisked Willa to the other room, closing the bedroom door behind him. As he changed her out of a wet morning diaper, he talked to the smiling baby. "Didn't anyone ever tell ya' that ya' need more than a couple of hours of sleep at night? Or that your Mama and Daddy need more than a couple of hours of sleep?"

"Gah!" she waived her arms and legs now that they were free.

"You're sure feelin' better than you did. That's a good thing."

Each time he spoke to her, she gave him a big grin. Once she was all changed, Raylan snapped her back into her new, larger sleeper. He grabbed her in one arm and the wet diaper in his other hand, and headed for the kitchen. Skillfully, he tossed the wet diaper in the trash and retrieved some breast milk from the freezer, heating it up in a saucepan.

While waiting for the milk to lose its chill, he asked Willa, "How is it that you don't wake up cranky after a night of bourbon? Take me for instance. I got a slight hangover this mornin', compounded by no sleep. And your Mama is down for the count. Yet, here you are, fresh as a daisy."

"Ma-ma-ma," she squealed with glee.

"Yeah, well, Mama's sleepin'," he said, placing her carrier on the counter and strapping her in. "You and me will have to make due this mornin', okay?"

Once the milk was at the right temperature, he quickly washed his hands and prepared a small bottle. As he brought the bottle to Willa, the baby grabbed it, wanting to hold it herself.

"Would ya' look at that," Raylan smiled. "Independent like your Mama." Keeping a close eye on her, he proceeded to make some coffee in the coffee maker and mash up a banana for Willa.

She was just about finished with her bottle. He picked her up and patted her back until a good burp came up. "It's time for your second course," he explained, strapping her back into her seat. He scooped up some bananas with a spoon as the coffee finally finished its cycle.

"Just a minute now, you let Daddy get himself a cup of java, then we'll get right back to these bananas."

"Na-na-na!" Willa screeched.

"Ahhhhhhhwwwww," Raylan let out a long, sustained yawn, pouring himself a cup and adding a lot of sugar, something he didn't ordinarily do. He was looking for energy anywhere he could find it. He could easily go back to bed for several more hours.

Taking a long sip of coffee, he spooned up more bananas. Willa opened her mouth wide gumming the fruit, then she stuck out her tongue and made a perfect raspberry, splattering bananas all over her daddy's face.

"Gee!" She laughed as he mopped at his face with a paper towel. Distracted, Raylan didn't notice when her hand went into the bowl, coming up with a fistful of mashed banana, which she promptly smeared into her hair.

Raylan looked at her and couldn't help laughing. "You silly thing."

She returned his smile, waving her hands in the air. "Gah! Na-na-na!"

"Okay, we might as well finish these," he said. "Then, someone needs a bath."

After breakfast, Raylan ran warm water in the sink and stripped off Willa's soiled sleeper. He plopped her in, supporting her back with one hand while he gently washed the bananas out of her hair, careful not to get soap in her eyes or water in her ears. He dried and diapered her, dressing her in the outfit Winona had laid out the night before. Spreading out the play-mat, he set Willa on her tummy for some Tummy Time, plopping the monkey and some other toys just out of reach.

Willa scooted up on her elbows, struggling again to get a knee underneath her. She grunted and fell back down. She reached out for the monkey. "Gah!" She pouted.

Raylan scooped her up, moving her closer to the toy and she grabbed it, gnawing on the animal's ear.

Winona emerged from the bedroom, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost nine," Raylan said. "Did ya' get some good sleep?"

"I did," Winona said. "Thank you." She yawned and stretched, then padded across the room to give him a quick kiss.

"You're welcome."

"I can take over now, if you want a nap."

"I'm awake now," he said. "But I'll grab a quick shower if you don't mind watchin' her."

Winona bent over and picked up her baby. "Good morning, Punkin'," she said. Willa patted her mother's face with a chubby hand.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma!" she cooed.

After his shower, Raylan ordered a late breakfast from room service and opened the door to pick up the paper just outside. Winona patty-caked with Willa while he read the complimentary copy of _USA Today. _When breakfast arrived, they moved the baby to the carrier and ate together in front of the window. The sun was out, and it looked to be a pretty day.

They were just finishing breakfast when his cell phone rang. It was Marguerite Dumois.

"Margie?" he answered.

"Hello, Raylan," she said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I just wanted to leave you a message before my break is over."

"Oh, no, you aren't disturbin' me at all. I've been up with the sun, takin' care of little Willa here."

"I spoke to Anna," Margie got right to the point. "She was, of course, surprised to hear someone from her birth family was looking for her, but she said she would probably give you a call. Just give her some time. She's a busy gal, with her work and all. I take it as a positive sign."

"Well, at least she wasn't vehemently opposed to the idea of speakin' with me," he said, laying the paper down. "Margie, I want to thank you for callin' and lettin' me know."

"You're welcome," she said. "You know, I wish you all the best of luck. Have a nice day."

"And you, too," and with that, Raylan disconnected the call.

He looked across at Winona. "Did ya' catch all that?"

"More waiting?" she surmised. "Only this time, for Anna to call you?"

"Yeah."

She knew he wasn't good at waiting. "I tell you what. Let me grab a quick shower, and we could all go to the store. I could prepare a nice chopped salad, some garlic bread, and a pasta Bolognese for an early dinner. You know, the dinner I promised you."

"Mmmm. That does sound good," he agreed. "And don't forget about the Spirits. And ice cream." After a beat, he had a thought. "Do ya' need to call your mama again?" he asked. "I mean, I can't see us leavin' here for at least another day or so."

"I pretty much eluded to that when I talked to her yesterday," Winona explained. "Mom gets it. We're fine."

"Good," he said. "While you take your shower, I'll extend our stay. Ya know," he joked, "We coulda put a down payment on a nice place in Kentucky with all the money we're spendin' on motel rooms."

_(To be continued . . .)_


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

_The Wait_

"That was sooooo good," Raylan said, pushing his chair away from the dinette table in their suite, making room for his expanded waistline. He literally cleaned his plate.

"There's more," Winona suggested.

"I couldn't," he patted his overly full tummy. "It was so good, my eyes were bigger than my stomach, but that didn't stop me."

"Is it as good as you remember?" Winona asked, still working on her pasta.

Turning his chair to angle his long legs out to the side of the table, Raylan leaned back even further in his chair and smiled. "_Even better_. You always were a good cook, but I think ya' outdid yourself this time. After all the restaurant faire we've been eatin', it's nice to have a home-cooked meal. Thank you."

"I really enjoy cooking … when I have the time," she raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Willa who was sitting in her infant seat on top of the table. Willa joined them earlier in a little plain pasta and butter.

Winona brought her glass of wine to her lips and took a sip of the Chianti.

"Do ya' think she'll go down for us tonight?" Raylan asked wistfully. "I mean, she didn't take a nap all day, even after bein' up all night." He looked over at his baby daughter and asked her, "How do you do it?"

"Gah," Willa responded, shaking the monkey up in the air.

"You do know that one of these days, Willa is going to answer you," Winona smiled. "And then, what are you going to do?"

Slowly stretching his arms over his head he answered, "Then, I'm in trouble. I'll just tell her to go ask you about anything she needs to know because, as we both know . . . I know nothin' about girls."

Winona glanced over at him and raised a concerned eyebrow, deciding not to offer him another glass of wine. "You're not going to fade on me so early, are you, Cowboy?"

"Not intentionally," he yawned, as if on cue.

"Because you promised me a night of wild abandon, to make up for last night. I kept my end of the bargain," she said, referring to the fabulous meal she prepared. After a beat, she added, "You should have taken that nap earlier today, when I offered you the chance."

"Honestly? I thought I'd have another chance this afternoon when a certain baby was _supposed_ to take her nap," he yawned big, again. "But we both know that never happened."

"A rookie mistake," Winona teased. "Next time, when you get an offer from me to watch her so you can sleep? My advice is to take it."

He looked over at her with pained eyes. "Would ya' be upset with me if I lay down for an hour?" he asked, almost begging and apologizing at the same time.

Normally, she'd tell him that new parent fatigue is something he needed to buck up and get used to. She would show no mercy. But the truth was, Winona wasn't upset with him at all. She knew how hard waiting for this call from Anna was on him. If he could be distracted by sleep, so be it.

"Do you really want me to wake you in an hour?" she asked, knowing he could use more than twenty winks.

"Well, yeah," he leaned forward in his chair and stretched again. "There's ice cream in the freezer with my name on it . . . and . . . I promised ya' a night of wild abandon.

Winona smiled as she reached over squeezed his arm. "We'll see about that."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Anna came out of the Metro station and ducked into _Pappas. _Nico smiled at her from behind the counter. "The usual?"

She squinted at the menu taped to the counter, unwilling to fish in her purse for the dreaded glasses that would make it easier to read. "What's the special?"

"Today we have Balsamic Chicken with orzo and tomato salad or baked shrimp with zucchini and feta."

"I'll take the chicken," she said, pulling out her wallet. "And..."

"And two pieces of baklava," Nico added. He shook a finger at her. "I know you." He disappeared into the kitchen, and Anna used the time to check personal e-mail on her phone. Ben's popped up with the tiny paperclip signaling an attachment. She was about to click on it when Nico returned with a brown paper sack. After tucking several napkins inside, he handed it to her. "Enjoy with a nice _Pinot Gris_," he suggested.

"No drinking for me tonight." She patted the laptop bag slung over her shoulder. "Work."

That earned her another finger wag. "You work too much Miss Anna."

"Don't we all, Nico? Don't we all?" She handed him the money with a generous tip and headed out, walking the three blocks to the apartment at a steady pace.

Inside, she set the bag on the counter and extracted the laptop from its carrying case. She hated reading e-mails on the tiny phone screen, and if Ben had attached some kind of report or perhaps a picture, she wanted to read it without squinting.

She powered the iMac on and brought up her email account, surprised at how her heart was pounding as she clicked on Ben's name.

_Anna. Here's the info you wanted. Seems like a straight-out-of-the-old-west lawman. Always gets his man, one way or another. Nothing out of the ordinary unless you remember a guy named Tommy Bucks out of Miami a few years back. Report is attached, along with his official photo. Take my advice and don't go down this particular romantic road. Love, Ben_

She chuckled to herself. Ben thought she was having him check up on a romantic prospect. She clicked on the attachments and downloaded the picture first. He _was _definitely good-looking. And notably, White. That didn't surprise her. Her mother had told her she was bi-racial. Obviously, this Raylan was from the paler side of the family. Pulling her own Federal I.D. tag over her head, she lay it beside the computer, glancing from her face to the one on the screen, looking for any similarities. The shape of the mouth, maybe, and something in the eyes . . . other than that, she couldn't tell.

His number was still scrawled on the inside of her wrist. She copied it onto the pad beside the phone and stripped on her way to the bedroom, hanging up her pants and tossing the blouse into the dirty laundry basket in the closet. She slipped into jeans and Adam's Georgetown Hoya sweatshirt he'd left hanging on the doorknob. Back in the kitchen, she took a plate from the cupboard and transferred her food, carrying the plate and a bottle of Sam Adams into the living room.

Clicking the remote, she sat cross-legged on the floor with her plate on the coffee table and watched the national news while she ate. The food was good, as always. If Adam were there, he'd be scrawling down the ingredients he tasted on a napkin, positive that he'd be able to recreate it, and he probably would. The man was an amazing cook. If she was hungry and no restaurants were open, Anna could scramble an egg. Maybe. Adam was amazing in other ways, too, but after the wreck she'd made of her personal life in the recent past, she was being very careful.

She sipped her beer, trying not to think about the feel of Adam's hand sliding over her skin. Shivering, she pushed to her feet, carrying her plate to the kitchen. She set it in the sink and picked up the laptop, padding back to her spot on the floor. The news had faded into _Jeopardy_, the category "_Famous First Lines _for $500, Alex_." _

Alex Trebek said. "When he was nearly thirteen my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow."

Anna answered with the contestant. "What is _To Kill a Mockingbird?" _ She ran that category, and the next two _Kings of England _and _Word Origins_. Her father always said she should have tried out for the high school or college tournament. She kept going, keeping a tally of her winnings in her head, out of habit.

She bet it all and bombed on Final Jeopardy, and when a tabloid entertainment show came on she flicked to CNN and opened the laptop. Opening Ben's email, she reread it and typed _Tommy Bucks _into the search engine. It took her to an article in the Miami Herald. She sipped her beer and read. It wasn't a flattering portrayal of either man, but to her view, Bucks had only gotten what he deserved. A little further research on the guy only solidified her opinion.

She went to the kitchen and picked up her phone, punching in the number Givens had left with her mother. What did she have to lose?

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

It was over an hour later, and Winona finished nursing and bathing Willa. She put the babe to sleep without a fuss in the bedroom where her daddy was softly snoring and appeared to be in a deep, deep sleep. Winona hated to wake him and decided to give him another fifteen or twenty minutes.

She cleaned up the kitchenette and put away the leftovers. Raylan would often tease her about cleaning up when room service was available. This trip would be no different.

As she scrubbed away tomato sauce splatters off the stove, the wait for Anna to call, or not to call, was beginning to grate on Winona, too. She couldn't imagine what it was doing to Raylan. She told herself that, whether Anna Dumois decided to contact him or not, he had to search this lead to its inevitable conclusion. Still, knowing this didn't make the wait any easier.

She also couldn't help but think that she was in no big hurry to get back to Miami. She did have a few things to take care of there, but nothing life shattering. She realized her new life with Raylan and Willa had already begun. They were all far away from Kentucky, away from the dangers so inherent in his job. She would enjoy it for as long as it lasted.

She flicked through the channels on the television. Raylan usually commandeered the remote, so it was nice to have the chance to watch something more to her taste. After a few minutes, she settled on _Love It Or List It_ and sat on the couch, putting her feet up. One episode ended and another was about to start when she heard the trill of Raylan's cell. She picked it up from the end table where he had left it and glanced at the display. The number was unfamiliar. _Was it Anna?_

Nudging open the bedroom door she walked to the bed and nudged Raylan gently. No response. Another nudge, only harder. He rolled over, burying his face in the pillow, still snoring softly. The phone trilled again. She hesitated, then clicked _Accept._

"Hello?" she answered, standing over Raylan's sleeping form.

Someone cleared his or her throat, then a female voice. "I'm trying to reach Raylan Givens. Is this his number?"

"Yes, it is," Winona said. "He's asleep right now. Is this Anna? Anna Dumoir?"

"Anna Rulé," she said. Another Cajun lilt to the pronunciation _Ru-lay._ "Yes. Who am I speaking with?"

"I'm Winona," she answered, still in a quandary as to what to do. "Raylan will be so pleased you called. Hold on just a second." She sat down next to him on the bed, shielding the mouthpiece with her hand. "Raylan? Raylan, _please wake up_," she begged, bouncing up and down on the mattress. The poor guy didn't respond. He was out cold.

Thinking in the moment, Winona could hear herself rambling on the phone. "Look, um . . . Raylan has been waiting, hoping he would hear from you. Our little one kept us up all last night teething. He stayed awake with her all day today so I could get some sleep and . . . well . . . he finally collapsed just a little while ago. I'm trying to wake him, and I can't. I don't know what to do."

"Oh, no. Don't wake him," Anna insisted. "Maybe I can talk to you?"

"Okay," Winona was little hesitant, hoping she wouldn't say the wrong thing. "Sure. Where should we start?" She laughed a little, uncomfortable. "Sorry. I've never been in a situation like this before."

"Neither have I," Anna said. "Although I've imagined it. Imagined contacting my birth parents. I'm sorry I never got the chance to meet them."

Winona bit her tongue, not wanting to touch that subject with a ten foot pole. "I didn't know them that well. I'll leave those stories for Raylan to tell."

"Oh? Was Raylan not close to his parents?"

"Raylan's mother died when he a boy," Winona explained. "He wasn't that close to his father."

"Oh, I see," Anna said, really seeing nothing. "So, according to my mother, I would be related to Raylan on his mother's side? He thinks he may be my half-brother?"

"That's right," Winona confirmed.

"And his mother was White?" Anna was direct.

"Yes," Winona confirmed. "Frances was White."

After a pause of silence, Anna asked, "Do you know who my father is? Was?"

"I'm sorry," Winona said. "I don't. And I don't know that Raylan does, either. But he's a marshal, and he traced the leads as far as he could with the information he had. His next step is to find you. You see, this is all news to him as of . . . about a week ago."

After another uncomfortable pause, Winona said, "I'm probably not telling this right or saying too much. I would feel terrible if I said something or made you think something that isn't right. I can't imagine being in your position. Or Raylan's."

"No, no, Winona," Anna said reassuringly. "You've been very helpful . . . and kind. I don't mean to overwhelm you with questions, but I'm anxious to find out everything I can. I understand I'm getting information a little second hand. Maybe you could just tell me about Raylan."

"Raylan," Winona smiled. "As you probably know, he's a U.S. Deputy Marshal. He's been in the Service for coming up on twenty years. He's a law and order kind of guy. And he's a good man."

"And a new father?" Anna expounded.

"A _very_ new father," Winona offered. "Not that I have any more experience with babies than he does, but yes. Our daughter, Willa, is six, almost seven months old."

"And you all live in Kentucky?" she continued to pepper Winona with questions.

"We'll see," Winona tried to be truthful, yet not give too much away. "Raylan's based in Lexington, Kentucky right now, but he – we – have lived other places. I'm always campaigning for him to go back and teach firearms at Glynco."

"I get that," Anna said. "You're not far from Glynco, now."

"No, we're not," Winona decided to leave that part of the discussion right there. She also wanted to know more about Anna, yet didn't want to pry. She was afraid Raylan might be upset with her. Then, again, he might be upset if she didn't. "So, what about you? Your last name is Rulé. Are you married?"

"I was," she said. "Twice. I've had two failed marriages. I'm evidently not very good at it."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, neither is Raylan," Winona suddenly felt comfortable enough to share. "I'm Raylan's ex. I'm also the mother of his daughter. And we're trying, again, to make a family with Willa. It seems we can't live with each other, but we can't live without each other, either."

"Damned if you do, and damned if you don't." Anna laughed. "I can totally relate."

"Do you have children?" Winona asked, knowing Anna must be in her late thirties.

"No," she answered. "Kids were never in the cards for me. But I am in a relationship with a musician, if that counts. My boyfriend's name is Adam Ralston."

"Sure, that counts," Winona smiled, feeling a little more at ease, feeling she was making some connections with the woman.

"He's a musician in a rock band. He's also a chef, a bartender. You know, a modern Renaissance man."

"A man who cooks for you? Oh, my gosh. That would be the _best_," Winona gushed.

"He cooks _gourmet_ food for me," Anna bragged a little. "Considering I can barely make coffee, it works for me."

The two women were really hitting it off.

"Winona," Anna abruptly changed the subject. "I think you, Raylan, and Willa need to get together with Adam and me. What do you say?"

"Yes!" Winona blurted out next to Raylan who was still out. "Where? When?"

"I live in of D.C." Anna shared. "Maybe we could meet you half way or you all could come up here?"

"I'd love to see our nation's capital. I've never seen it before," Winona said. "How far a drive is it from Atlanta?"

"Nine, ten hours," Anna answered. "But you want to miss the rush hours, which are really more like two to three hours. Tomorrow is Friday. Want to make it a weekend? I can get you the names of a safe hotel nearby that has discounts for law enforcement."

"Are you in the hospitality business?" Winona asked, impressed by her knowledge.

"Sort of," Anna was intentionally vague, no wanting to share about her employer over the phone. "You have my cell number from the call. Let me give you our address."

Anna proceeded to give Winona her address and texted her the name, website, and address for Club Quarters, near the White House. Unbeknownst to Winona, Anna would make sure they got the maximum discount, as Ms. Rulé had her town wired.

"Great!" Anna said. "I'm glad we hit it off. I will warn you. I'm cautious by nature. We're going to have to get DNA testing and all that jazz. But as a first step, I think this initial contact went very well."

"You know, Raylan is also cautious by nature. But I'm with you, Anna. Without sounding presumptuous, I feel like I already know you. Which is strange because we've not even met."

"It's not just you, Winona. You and I clicked. Tell Raylan I'm sorry he missed my call. I'll talk to him tomorrow night, either by phone or in person, whichever comes first," she assured Winona. "And I look forward to meeting all of you very soon."

Winona disconnected the call and looked down at her sleeping cowboy. She couldn't wait to tell him the news. Too excited to sleep, she began to get them packed for the next leg of their journey he had yet to find out about.

_(To be continued . . .)_


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

_Indirect Contact_

"You must not have been very hungry," Adam said, spearing a forkful of chicken out of the Tupperware container. He studied her face as he chewed. "You're pensive. What's up?"

"Pensive?" She laughed lightly. "Using your prep-school vocabulary now, are you?"

"Pensive," he intoned, seriously. "Engaged in, involving, or reflecting deep or serious thought."

He grinned. "I got a 730 in reading on my SATs."

"All for naught."

"I went to college."

"_Went_ being the operative word."

"Not all of us are cut out for the educational hierarchy. We prefer to learn in the School of Life."

He continued to study her. "Really, Annie, what's going on? Is it work?"

She yawned. It was close to 3 a.m. Usually she was fast asleep by the time Adam came home from rehearsal, but tonight she'd tossed and turned, unable to turn off her mind. She had jumped out of bed when she heard his key in the lock and met him in the kitchen. Now, she bit her lip and pushed the photo she had printed out across the counter toward him.

"Who's this?"

"Do you think we look alike?"

Adam cocked his head and held the photo up. "He's white."

"No shit," Anna said.

"I guess there are some similarities," he said. "The cheekbones, and maybe the mouth. Why?"

"You remember that phone call from my mother?" she went on, explaining the events of the last 24 hours up to her conversation with Winona. "So . . . I kind of invited them, here."

He looked more closely at the picture. "This guy thinks he might be your half-brother?"

She nodded. "And my mother seems to agree with him."

Adam smiled and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "And you want me to cook a fabulous meal and impress the hell out of them."

She returned the smile. "We could always go to a restaurant."

"Without reservations on a weekend night in D.C.?" He wagged a finger in her face. "Haven't you learned anything living here?" He stepped in, putting his arms around her. "Besides, they have a baby, right? I can cook a better meal than any of the places we could go to with a baby in tow."

"Well, I might've told her – Winona – that you were a gourmet chef," she planted a kiss at the base of his throat. He smelled faintly of pot. She knew he smoked a little when he was with the band, but he didn't do it often and never around her.

"Flattery will get you lots of places." He tipped her chin up, kissing her mouth. "But I'm whipped. Let's get some sleep first."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Raylan," Winona shook her man again, determined that this time, she was going to wake him.

"Wha?" he startled, opening his eyes.

She was direct. "You need to get in the shower."

Squinting his eyes, he was confused, being awakened in a start. His first sight was Winona, dressed in a fresh cotton top and jeans, smelling really good. He reached up and began to pull her down towards him, on the bed.

"Not now, Cowboy. We need to get going," she explained, speaking fast. "Anna called, and we're all going to Washington D.C. to meet her."

Raylan reached up and touched his spinning forehead. "Anna called?" He looked over at the digital clock that read 6:14 A.M. Slowly piecing things together, he sat up and blurted out, "You were supposed to wake me in an hour, last night."

"I tried," she said, convincingly. "Boy, how I tried. You were exhausted last night. Comatose."

It was only then, he noticed Willa, happily babbling from her port-o-crib. And the sun was beginning to shine glints of its rising rays through the closed mini blinds.

"It's a nine or ten hour drive to DC," Winona went on. "You need to get showered so we can get on the road. We'll be driving against traffic and should make pretty good time this morning. I'll even volunteer to drive the first leg."

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he again asked, "You talked to Anna last night?"

"Yes," she repeated. "I spoke to Anna, and she wants us to come up to where she lives in D.C. so she can meet us. I'll fill you in after we get on the road. I got us pretty well packed."

Raylan slowly slid his legs over the side and rose to his feet. He had fallen asleep in his clothes. Stumbling to the bathroom, he turned on the shower and closed the door.

While Raylan was showering, Winona went over to Willa. "Come here, Punkin'. We need to get you fed and dressed. How would you like to meet your Aunt Anna?"

"Da-da-da-da," the baby moved her hand in cadence with her speech.

"Yes, Aunt Anna is Daddy's sister," Winona explained while beginning a diaper change. "At least, that's what we think," she mumbled to herself. "And your Aunt Gayle is Mama's sister."

She gave Willa a good nursing, on both sides, and then, changed her little one into a comfortable cotton, pale green sun dress with matching crib shoes and hat to keep the sun out of her eyes. Placing her in her carrier, up on the kitchen table, she handed Willa her beloved monkey.

The diaper bag was packed. Check. Her and Raylan's bags were packed and lined up near the door. Check. She had laid out Raylan's clean clothes for the day on the bed. Check. She had a change of clothes for each of them on hangers to go inside the car. Check. And there was a bag of dirty laundry that she would have to deal with later. Check.

Winona reached for a banana while waiting for Raylan to dry his hair.

"Na-na-na," Willa waved her arms in delight.

"Well, I actually got this banana for me," Winona informed her daughter, "but I'll share with you." She went into the kitchen for a bowl and a fork and returned to mash half of the big piece of fruit for Willa. She put a bib on the babe to protect her pretty little dress and munched on the other half in between bites of feeding Willa.

After she spooned the last bite into Willa's mouth, she went into the kitchen to put the bowl in the sink and throw away the peel. Raylan emerged from the bedroom.

"So, we're goin' to DC," he said, looking at their bags all packed.

"Yes," she said. "Here. Put your dirty clothes in the bathroom in this." She handed him a plastic bag. "And grab anything else that's yours from the bedroom and the bathroom. We're ready to load the car."

Raylan disappeared for a moment and reemerged. "What time did ya' get up this morning?"

"Oh, I don't know. About five?" she guessed. Truth was, she didn't sleep very well after all the excitement.

"Ya' want me to start loadin' the car?" he asked, going with the fast pace set by Winona.

Winona nodded. "And I'll call the front desk and check us out, okay?"

"Sure." Raylan grabbed their bags and headed for the trunk of his car. He returned for the port-o-crib.

When he returned for the second time, they both took a last look around the room, searching for anything that needed to come with them.

"Wait. We have some leftovers we can take with us," Winona remembered. She went to the fridge and picked up a bag that she packed. "And there's ice cream in there, if you want it for breakfast. No sense in leaving it here."

"Good thinkin'," he said and grabbed the pint of French vanilla from the freezer.

Raylan had Willa in her carrier and the diaper bag strapped over his shoulder, with the ice cream and a pilfered spoon in his hand with his car keys. Winona had the bag of leftovers, her purse, and their change of clothes on hangers in hers.

"Okay," she said. "Looks like we have everything."

Before leaving the room, Raylan approached Winona. He searched her eyes and leaned down and gave her a deep kiss, to which she responded. Coming up for air, he said, "Thank you. For talkin' to Anna and makin' these plans...and for gettin' us on the road so fast." And he gave her another peck before they left the room and closed the door behind them.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Anna headed into the office first thing in the morning, skipping her run in hopes of being able to leave work a little early. Jason looked up from the computer and raised an eyebrow when she walked in.

"Finchbaugh wants to see you in his office."

"Great," Anna sighed, tossing her case on the chair and setting her coffee on the desk. "Any idea why?"

"Might be something to do with the Kendrick case. He's got Weston from Homeland Security and some lady from the Marshal Service in there with him."

"The Marshals?" Anna's stomach did a flip, and she said a silent prayer that this had nothing to do with Ben's fishing expedition on her behalf. She took a long sip of coffee trying to clear the morning fog. "Might as well get it over with," she muttered half to herself. Jason chuckled and went back to his paperwork.

Finchbaugh was leaning on his desk, arms crossed over his chest, his ample belly lapping over the waistband of his khaki pants. Everything about him was wrinkled, from the sagging skin of his neck to the faded socks sticking out of his loafers. Even his hair looked matted and slept in.

Todd Weston, the representative of Homeland Security was a direct contrast. His blond hair was military-short; his dark slacks creased neatly, his shoes shined. There wasn't a spot or smudge on his white button-down shirt. Only his tie, one of those _Jerry Garcia_ acid trips, this one in bright abstract swirls of orange, red, and yellow, gave any clue to a personality behind the façade.

Anna didn't recognize the woman in the room. She was facing Finchbaugh, with her back to the door, one hand on her hip, the other gesturing. Her dark hair was pinned back in a silver clip and her gray linen suit was fitted to her form. This must be Ben's boss, the one who was rarely happy. Anna's stomach did another flip.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Ah," her boss looked up. "Anna, come in. This is the one I was telling you about," he said, a note of pride in his voice. "She did all the legwork on this guy."

So it _was_ about Kendrick.

"Anna," he went on. "You know Todd Weston, this is Assistant Director Goodall of the Marshals Service.

"Nice to meet you," the woman said, turning with as fake a smile as Anna had ever seen. Her sharp brown eyes met Anna's for a moment, and Anna saw a glint of interest. She would bet this woman knew all about her inquiry, and she sent a silent apology to Ben.

Weston rose from his chair. "Good work, Agent Rulé. I think we have enough information to go forward."

"If I might ask," Anna said, feeling territorial. "How is the Marshals Service involved?"

Goodall produced a file, handing Anna a picture. "We think this man is a part of Kendrick's inner circle. His name is John Edward Burke, but he goes by Jeb Himmler."

"Whoa," Weston said. "Himmler? As in Heinrich Himmler? The head of Hitler's SS?"

"We assume so, yes."

Weston gave a low whistle.

"We've been after him for almost eight years. He walked away from a work detail at the Kansas State Penitentiary where he was serving time for assault and arson. He's suspected in the death of an elderly couple in the area whose car was found abandoned near Springfield, Missouri."

Anna looked at the prison mug shot and handed it back to Goodall. "That's not far from Kendrick's compound outside of Bolivar."

"Bingo," Finchbaugh said, grinning.

Goodall looked at him and gave the tiniest shake of her head. "It's enough for us to look a little further into this. I want you on it," she directed this to Anna. "Since you did the research, get your things together and meet us in the conference room. It's going to be a late night."

As the others left Finchbaugh's office, Goodall lingered behind.

"Agent Rulé. Would you be able to verify for me that her maiden name is Dumoir?" she asked her FBI counterpart, using the correct pronunciation of both Anna's surnames.

Puzzled, Assistant Director Finchbaugh pulled up Anna's file on his laptop. Scanning the dossier on his screen, he answered, "Yes. But as a return courtesy, would you mind telling me why you ask?"

"It has something to do with that matter you started to ask me about when I first arrived, Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens," she shared. "You see, not only was Agent Rulé searching for information on Marshal Givens. It appears Marshal Givens conducted a search for information on Anna Dumois of New Orleans, as well."

"Your Marshal Givens. Is he a good Marshal?"

"He's the most effective marshal I have," Goodall answered frankly. Then, a tight smile crossed her lips. "But he's also not what I would describe as _'by the book.'_ In fact, a Hazmat crew often has to go in and clean up after him."

Finchbaugh nodded his head. "That colorful description reminds me of a certain Agent I know."

"Agent Rulé?" Goodall guessed.

"The one and only," Finchbaugh said, nodding again.

"Interesting," she said.

He asked, "What do you think it all means?"

"I'm not sure," she answered. "I know one thing. I don't believe in coincidences."

Her counterpart agreed. "Neither do I."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

By noon, Winona had driven them all the way to Greensboro, North Carolina, stopping only once for drive through coffee and a pee break. The lunch traffic in Greensboro was the heaviest she encountered thus far, and Willa had woken from a nap and was just beginning to fuss. They decided it was a good time to stop, have some lunch, and stretch their legs, as Raylan finished off the ice cream and dinner leftovers for breakfast. Off the 85, a hungry Winona saw a sign for a Mexican Café called _Los Gordos_. Driving up to the restaurant, she was not disappointed.

Raylan unlocked Willa's infant seat and grabbed her diaper bag. Once inside, there was a five to ten minute wait to be seated, so he and Winona took turns using the restroom. Winona took Willa with her and changed her.

Seated and with Willa situated, Winona ordered an ice tea and Raylan stayed with coffee. The healthy, Tex-Mex vibe was a nice change. They each decided what they wanted and waited for the waitress to return to take their order.

"I'm takin' over on the drivin' from here," Raylan announced.

"You'll get no argument from me," Winona said.

"You got us half way," he reached over and squeezed her shoulder. "You've been a champ through this. I really appreciate it," he said giving her shoulder another squeeze. "Heck, you could even get a good nap in between here and D.C."

A moment later, Raylan's phone vibrated, and he received the following text message.

_Checking N. R U Coming? Anna-_

He told Winona about the message, as he entered a response.

_On our way. In Greensboro NC._

In a moment, he received the next text.

_I have 2 work L8 2nite. U may hit Beltway traffic. Take UR time. 2 B safe, can we meet 4 brunch 2moro?_

He responded with: _Sounds good. Raylan_

"Well, we don't have to worry about gettin' there by any certain time tonight," Raylan said, feeling relieved. "We should probably call the hotel and make sure a late check-in won't be a problem, just in case we do hit traffic."

"I wonder what Anna does for a living," Winona thought out loud. "I didn't even think to ask."

"We'll find out soon enough," Raylan said.

The waitress came and took their order. Winona ordered a chicken breast topped with sautéed spinach and mushrooms. Raylan stayed traditional with beef tacos. And Winona ordered some plain rice and avocado for Willa.

The food was delicious. After they ate, they talked about how they were full, but not overly stuffed. Fed, watered, and rested, the three got back in the car and hit the road again.

Winona sat in the backseat with Willa. They played, sang songs. Winona read to her, while Raylan listened in. At one point, she discreetly nursed her and changed her diaper. Finally, when they were a half an hour from Richmond, Willa fell asleep. Winona wasn't far behind her.

Raylan's mind wondered as he drove. While he wondered about Anna, he also was amazed at the love he felt for Winona. If he was honest he had to admit he'd always loved Winona, since that night he'd met her in Salt Lake so long ago. Watching her with their daughter, parenting Willa together, made him love her even more. Add to that the way she supported him with this whole trip to find Anna . . . his heart was full to bursting, quite an unfamiliar feeling. He loved her, and she still turned him on, as no other woman could. He watched her sleep in the rear view mirror.

His thoughts were interrupted when his cell phone chirped. "Art?" he answered his phone.

"Sorry to bother you on your vacation, but I have a message for you from the Assistant Director," he relayed.

"Karen?"

"Yeah. Miami is off," Art continued. "She said wants you to meet her in her office in D.C., first thing Monday morning. It didn't sound like she was going take no for an answer."

Raylan let out a sigh.

"I think we both know what this is about," Art said.

"Yeah," Raylan agreed.

"Well, I take it that you'll let me know anything I need to know, right? Like if she fires your ass."

"You'll be the first to know," he said. "Thanks, Art."

"You're welcome. You have a nice weekend."

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," he said sarcastically.

As soon as he disconnected the call, Raylan uttered under his breath, "Well, shit."

_(To be continued . . .)_


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

_Best Laid Plans_

It was almost 8 p.m. before they finally reached the Club Quarter and checked into a room with a crib and a kitchenette. It was a very nice place with the amenities of a business suite. Once again, they unloaded the car, took care of Willa, and ordered a pizza. After a bath, Winona nursed her and got her to go to sleep for the night quite easily.

After a late dinner and with Willa down, Raylan walked up behind Winona and wrapped his long arms around her.

"I've been waitin' to do this for days," he whispered into her hair, pressing himself against her.

He reached up to cup her breasts, gently squeezing. Winona closed her eyes, leaned back into him, and succumbed to his lead. Kissing her neck, he reached up under her top and freed her breasts from her bra, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples, as he began to slowly grind her from behind.

She softly moaned as he breathed heavily into her ear. He pulled her top up until she raised her arms over her head so that he could pull it off, her bra soon joining it on the floor. Raylan sensually kissed her bare shoulders, while he reached around and unbuttoned her jeans. He opened her zipper and she wiggled, allowing him to slide both the jeans and her panties down over her hips.

Raylan turned and cleared the kitchen table with one swipe of his arm. The empty pizza box went flying. He bent Winona over the kitchen table, her warm skin cooling against the wood. She looked vulnerable, exposed. He kissed his way down her body, teasing her with his skilled tongue. He took his time, slowly torturing her.

"Raylan, please," she moaned, begging him to take her.

He raced to free himself from his jeans. Retrieving a condom, he wrapped himself with the latex and slowly entered her from behind.

Winona let out a low moan and pushed back to meet him, making him want more of her with every stroke. At one point, he leaned over, until he was on top of her back and took her hair in one hand. Carnal desire took over as he rode her, pounded her. She bucked against him, intensifying their pleasure, until she shuddered and cried out.

It took everything Raylan had not to follow in her release. Instead, he waited for her waves to subside before he began all over again, only this time, he did follow her over the edge, grabbing her hips, holding on tight. He slumped over her on the table, spent and breathing hard as their bodies quaked together.

"Damn," he swore.

Equally breathless, she concurred, "Damn is right."

Once he was steady enough to climb off of her, he looked down. "Shit!"

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"The condom. It broke," he reported. "I'm sorry. I guess I got too carried away."

Still shaky, he helped her stand up from the table.

"Well, you have been promising me a night of wild abandonment," she teased. She looked into his eyes. "That was _incredible_."

His eyes glistened gazing into hers. His feeling of satisfaction was turning to worry

"I think we're okay," she said reassuringly. "I'm still nursing."

"Yeah?" His look changed to hopeful.

"Yeah." She came closer and kissed him softly. "Let's go to bed." After a beat, she added, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he echoed.

They held one another for a while, until she slowly aroused him into another round of love making, more the old-fashioned way.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Hey." Adam rolled over, nudging her. "That's your phone."

Anna reached over him to the nightstand, grabbing the phone and pressing the button to take the call. "Hello?" she said, her voice rough with sleep.

"Agent Rulé? This is Assistant Director Goodall. I need you to come in this morning. I have a few questions about Kendrick that aren't covered in your research or what we worked on yesterday."

_Shit, _Anna thought. There went brunch with her possible brother and his family. She yawned and looked at the clock. It was after midnight by the time she got home, and it was only six-thirty now. Did this woman ever sleep?

"Are you there, Agent?"

"Yes." Another yawn.

"I'm sorry," Goodall said. "Did I wake you?"

"Yes," Anna said, deciding to be honest. "Can you give me an hour or so to get there?"

"You've got thirty minutes." She heard the click as Goodall disconnected.

"Bitch," Anna muttered, throwing off the covers. She nudged Adam until one eye opened, and he looked at her. "I gotta go in."

"Brunch?" he managed.

She stood, grabbing a band from the dresser and pulling her hair off her face, but leaving it down. "Can you meet them? Maybe give them a quick tour around town? Invite them to dinner back here," she suggested, pulling on a pair of khakis and a white t-shirt. "Text me your list, and I'll do the shopping on my way home." She topped her Saturday casual with a red denim jacket and slid her feet into matching sandals. "Adam?"

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, meet them, take 'em around, invite them to dinner." He repeated her litany.

She started brushing her teeth and talked around it. "And text me your list."

"Got it. How's about I go regional with dinner. Crab cakes? With Remoulade and sweet corn risotto?"

"Ummmm," she said, her stomach rumbling. She spit into the sink. "That sounds wonderful. So. I should get a white wine, right?"

He thought for a moment. "Pick up a Sauvignon Blanc. And a bottle of Woodford Reserve, we don't have any bourbon, and that's the best, in my opinion." He yawned. "I have a great recipe for a caramel cake that will taste great with bourbon. It even has bourbon in the icing."

"You're going to be a busy boy." She bent to give him a kiss.

"Brunch at 11 . . . a quick tour . . . drop them off by 3 or so . . . home to cook. I'll get the stuff for the cake and do that first."

"If I'm not home by three, I'll shoot myself. Or her."

Adam laughed. "Don't do that. The F.B.I. wouldn't be pleased."

"Oh," she said, suddenly reminded. "Please don't tell Raylan or Winona that I work for the F.B.I."

"Why not?" He shrugged. "He's a cop, too."

"Maybe. But without a DNA test, at this point, we don't know if Marshal Raylan is really my half-brother or not," she said over her shoulder as she walked down the hall.

"Skeptic. You're channeling your inner Scully," he teased, referring to her favorite FBI Agent from _The X Files_.

"Yeah. So?"

He followed in his boxers and nothing else. "Okay," he said, slipping up behind her, as she studied the contents of the fridge. "But what if he asks?"

"Use the usual cover," she said, grabbing a carton of yogurt. "Tell him I work in real estate, but only if he asks."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Anna texted while you were in the shower," Raylan said, frowning. "She got called into work. Adam is still going to meet us at someplace called Belga Café at 11. She said to take a cab and bring a stroller. Adam's going to give us a quick walking tour after."

Winona could see his disappointment at the meeting being postponed once again.

"Do ya' think she's havin' second thoughts?" He gave voice to his concerns.

"No," she assured him. "You of all people ought to understand that sometimes work interferes with life. Maybe being a workaholic runs in the family."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm on vacation now, ain't I?"

"Yes, you are." She kissed him. "But you had to be tricked into it."

"Uh-uh-uh," Willa grunted from the floor where she was having some Tummy Time on her play mat. They both glanced down to see that she had one leg underneath her and was working on the other one. She pushed up with her arms, pulled her leg forward, and for one split second was on all fours, then she collapsed. Her grunts turned to screams of frustration, and Raylan stooped to scoop her up.

"You'll get there pretty soon, Miss Willa," he said. "You'll be crawlin' all over before you know it."

"Come're Punkin'," Winona said, holding out her arms for the baby. "Let's get you changed and dressed while Daddy takes his shower.

"Uh, we gotta problem," Raylan informed his lady love. "We're goin' on a walkin' tour, and we've got no stroller or front carrier."

"Yeah, they're at Mama's," Winona thought out loud. "I'll call the Concierge while you're in the shower and see if we can borrow or rent something."

"Let's hope so," Raylan said. "Or it's gonna be a short tour."

Raylan showered and dressed in jeans and a Henley. "They had one?" Raylan commented upon seeing a collapsible stroller in the corner of the room.

"Yeah, a bellman brought it up, right away," Winona smiled. "It's on loan for the length of our stay."

"The price is right." He grabbed the stroller, the diaper bag, and the monkey . . . and turned to Winona. "You ready?"

She nodded, shifting Willa to her hip. "Let's go meet this Adam."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Outside the hotel, Raylan tipped the bellman for bringing up the stroller and hailing them a cab for the 6 minute ride. After arriving at the trendy establishment, Raylan peeled of another fifteen bucks for the cabbie and grabbed the stroller out of the trunk. Thinking he would have to pay for another cab to get back to the hotel, or anywhere else they went, he was already not liking this trip to the nation's capital.

"Winona? Raylan?" Adam assumed this little family with the stroller was the right one.

"Adam," Raylan acknowledged the younger man, dressed like a hipster, by extended his hand for a shake. "This is Winona and Willa."

"Nice to meet you," Adam smiled. "Would you like to come inside?"

They followed Adam inside the packed restaurant. Raylan maneuvered the collapsed stroller through a sea of loud people and tables as Adam led them to a small table for four. They took a seat and waited for a waiter to bring them a high chair for Willa. It was big for her, and Winona rolled up a blanket from the diaper bag to help support her back. It would do. Raylan tucked the stroller into the corner and pulled the monkey out of the diaper bag and handed it to Willa, much to her delight.

"What kind of restaurant is this?" asked Winona, smiling and fascinated by the décor.

"Belgian," Adam spoke over the background noise. "The café's a hot ticket in D.C. You can only get in with reservations, but I know the owner." After an awkward silence, he went on. "I planned on making a brunch for you today. Then, Anna got called in. So, if it's okay with you, I'll be making dinner for us tonight instead."

"Why thank you," Winona gushed. "That would be so nice."

"I imagine that you might like a home cooked meal after being on the road," Adam tried to make conversation.

"Our room in Atlanta had a kitchen. Winona cooked for us our last night there," Raylan said.

"You like to cook?" Adam turned his attention back to her.

Winona nodded. "It's hard with a little one, but yes, I like it. But I'm no gourmet."

Raylan snorted. "Good, simple food. What's wrong with that?"

The waiter arrived with water for all and menus, as well a basket of freshly baked mini baguettes and jams. Winona ordered a Mimosa, Adam a Bloody Mary, and Raylan, coffee. The waiter asked Raylan if he would like an Espresso or a Cappuccino. Raylan answered that he wanted an American cup of coffee. Perusing the menu, Raylan searched for something familiar, like bacon and eggs, his eyes popping at the prices.

"What's good?" Winona asked Adam. "There are too many choices here."

"I've never had anything here that wasn't excellent," Adam reported. "What are you in the mood for?"

"I think I'd like an omelet," she answered. "This one with spinach, herb pesto, cheese, and bacon sounds really good."

"Anna got that the last time we were here and loved it. I, myself, am in the mood for the cornbread waffle with pulled pork, avocado, egg, and crème fraiche," Adam shared with a smile. "It's my personal favorite." Looking over at the very quiet Southern gentleman, he asked, "How about you, Raylan?"

"I'm lookin' to see how I can order bacon and scrambled eggs," Raylan answered. "And some food for the baby."

"Look," Winona showed him. "You can order them as sides. And I'll ask the waiter to help us come up with something for Willa."

"Oh, sure," Adam went on. "They can do anything you like here."

Again, looking at the prices, Raylan said under his breath, "I bet."

"You've got yourself a beautiful baby there," Adam commented. "How old is she?" He waved at the tiny girl, who gave him a big grin.

"Why thank you," Winona smiled. "She'll be 7 months next week, right Raylan?"

"Time flies," he said, sounding disinterested.

Adam looked over at Raylan. When he climbed out of the cab and walked into the café, Adam noticed a similarity between him and Anna in their build and the way they walk. There was also something in the bone structure of the face that looked familiar to him. "Anna was so bummed that that she had to reschedule last night and this morning. But she will see you soon. She's anxious to meet you all."

Raylan sighed. "It's a little awkward for all concerned. Might be good to get this initial meetin' into our past."

Winona leaned over to Adam and shared, "I don't know if you know this, but Anna's father first told Raylan that Anna had passed away. You know, to get Raylan to give up his search. Raylan's kinda been through the wringer of ups and downs on this."

"Oh, no," Adam said, grateful for Winona's attempt at insight into Raylan's biting behavior. "I didn't know that. But knowing the dynamics of Anna's family, especially with her dad, that doesn't surprise me that André would do that. I'm not one of his favorites, either."

The two continued to talk, sans Raylan, as if they were old friends. Willa babbled but couldn't be heard over the background noise.

"That's too bad," Winona offered her sympathies as their drinks were delivered to the table.

The waiter promised to be right back for their order.

"You see, I'm white. He wants a black man for his Anna," Adam explained. "I get that, but it is so old school. And ultimately, it's up to Anna. Right?"

"Right," Winona agreed.

Still playing host, Adam raised his Bloody Mary and offered, "Welcome to Washington, Raylan and Winona,"

"Thank you," Winona said and clinked her glass to his.

Feeling socially pressured to follow, Raylan said, "Cheers," as Adam clinked his cup.

"Have you ever been to D.C. before?" Adam was guessing he may have been presumptuous with Raylan.

"I haven't," Winona offered. "This is my first time."

"Raylan?" Adam asked, again.

"I was here, maybe ten years ago, on a fugitive transport," he recalled. "But I flew into Baltimore."

"You are staying near the White House, right?" Adam asked.

"Yes," Raylan nodded, not understanding or caring where this conversation was going.

"We're close to the Capital and the Supreme Court here," Adam explained. "I thought after our meal, we could go tooling around there and kill some time until Anna can join us. She'll get out early, if she can."

"Sounds good," Raylan said, ready to leave this loud, overpriced scene. The sooner the better.

Finally, the waiter arrived to take their orders. Raylan again unapologetically made it obvious he was a simple man of simple taste by ordering plain bacon and eggs from the side orders. Winona noted his behavior was more than the build up to meeting his sister. He was being a bit of an ass. The waiter suggested some yogurt and pureed fruit for Willa.

The food came quickly, considering the crowd in the restaurant. Even Raylan had to admit his eggs were very good and his side order of bacon was five large pieces cooked to perfection. Better yet, Adam's running commentary had stopped while they ate. Raylan studied him. Something about the guy grated on Raylan, and he wasn't sure what it was. Winona didn't share his distrust and continued making conversation.

"Did you grow up in D.C., Adam?" she asked between bites.

"Practically." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I grew up in Vienna, Virginia, about twenty miles from here. My sisters and I used to hop on the Metro and come into the city all the time."

Willa banged on the tray and Winona gave her a spoonful of fruit. "How many sisters do you have?"

"Four." He chuckled. "My dad travelled for work and I was the only son, so I learned a lot about women growing up in that house."

Winona's foot connected with Raylan's shin under the table, and he took it as a prompt to re-enter the conversation. He said the first thing that came to mind. "So, you're a musician?"

"I play guitar in a band," he said. "And I bartend. I want to get into the restaurant business and it's as good a place to start as any."

"Aren't you a little old to be startin'?"

Winona shot him a glare, but Adam laughed. "You sound just like my parents." He shook his head. "I tried the college-education route. Quit five credits shy of a degree in finance from George Mason."

"Why'd ya' quit?" The waiter approached to refill the coffee, but Raylan put his hand over the cup to stop him. He glanced up with a smile. "Just the check, thanks." He looked back to Adam.

The younger man shrugged. "I prefer the school of life."

Raylan's eye roll at that earned him another kick under the table from Winona. When the check arrived, Raylan grabbed it. "You're cookin' us dinner," he said to Adam. I'll pick up the tab for lunch."

Upon glancing at the check, Raylan almost ate his words when he saw a twenty-five percent gratuity automatically added to the already inflated total. It was all he could do to keep a poker face and save himself another kick to the shin from Winona.

_(To be continued . . .) _


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

_Gathering Evidence_

"Ahhhhhhhh-chooooo," Raylan let out the third or fourth sneeze over the past five minutes, as he, Winona, Adam, and Willa walked around the perimeter of the Supreme Court Building. He pulled out his handkerchief just in time for another sneeze.

As if the day couldn't get any worse for him, it appeared he was allergic to something in the air.

"How are you doing, Cowboy?" Winona asked him. His eyes were teary, and he was sniffling.

"Just great," he said sarcastically, clearing his scratchy throat. He'd never had something come on so fast.

"There's a pollen alert out for today," Adam mentioned. "After all the storms this winter, you have entered an allergy vortex."

"What the hell is an allergy vortex?" Raylan asked. He sounded very stuffed up but still spoke with a bite.

"Hell if I know," Adam pushed back a little. "That's what they're calling it on the news here . . . a worse allergy season than usual."

"Look," Winona interjected, changing the subject. "There's a CVS pharmacy across the street. Maybe they have something for you like an antihistamine or something. No sense in you being miserable on this trip."

_Too late for that_, Raylan thought to himself.

After a rifling of two or three more sneezes in a row, he finally said, "Let's head over to that pharmacy."

Adam talked Raylan into letting him push the stroller for a while, and he and Winona remained outside of the pharmacy as Raylan went inside. He headed straight to the back to talk to the pharmacist.

"Hey, I'm from out of town, and I seem to be havin' a reaction to somethin' in the air," Raylan explained.

"You need Zyrtec-D," the pharmacist said and handed him a pack of the 12 hour release tablets without missing a beat. "Everyone here is on this stuff."

"No shit," Raylan said, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. He spied a refrigerated shelf next to the register and pulled out a cold 7-Up. Then, he saw a big package of cough drops. "I'll take these, too," he said.

"That'll be $42.95," the pharmacist said.

"Whoa," Raylan peeled off the last of his cash and handed it over. "You don't know where I could find a cash machine, do ya'?"

"Yep. There's one inside the store, closer to the entrance."

"Thanks," he said. As soon as he paid, he took one of tablets out of the package and downed it with the soft drink.

"That formula works well, but it could make you drowsy," the pharmacist warned. "You might not want to drive or operate machinery until you see how you do on it."

"No problem," he said. "I'm not drivin'."

The pharmacist handed him a bag to put everything in, and Raylan headed for the cash machine.

Meanwhile, outside, Winona took the opportunity to apologize to Adam for Raylan's behavior.

"I understand," Adam said. "The guy wants to get this initial meeting with Anna over with."

"Yeah, but that's no reason for him to be rude," she clarified.

"Believe it or not," Adam shared. "Anna can be like that, too, when she's under stress. Sometimes, she embarrasses the hell out of me. I've learned not to take it personally."

"No kidding," Winona nodded with familiarity. "I don't take it personally when he's like this, but I don't take any crap off of him, either. Thank goodness it doesn't happen very often. Most of the time, Raylan's a great guy."

"Anna's a sweetheart most of the time, too. I promise not to hold this against him," Adam assured her.

"That's very kind of you," she said.

Adam glanced at the time on his cell phone. "Anna shouldn't be that much longer. If you like, we could catch a cab and head over to the house. Hang out there. I don't think Raylan is into playing tourist."

"No. I think Raylan feels pretty lousy," Winona agreed.

Raylan walked out of the pharmacy in time to hear the tail end of their conversation. Truth was, he _was_ feeling lousy, and he nixed the idea. "I don't want to meet Anna for the first time feelin' like this. The pharmacist said these might make me drowsy, maybe a nap would help, too."

"It's time for Willa's nap anyway." Winona nodded. "And I wouldn't mind freshening up. Is that okay, Adam? We could go back to the hotel for a couple of hours and take a cab to your place around . . . five?"

"Perfect," Adam said. "That will give me time to get things started so I don't spend the whole time you're there in the kitchen." He turned the stroller back over to Raylan and held out his hand for a parting shake. "I hope you feel better."

"Thanks," Raylan said, accepting the shake. "Tell Anna I'm lookin' forward to meetin' her later. Hopefully by then I'll be breathin' a little easier."

He laughed. "No problem. Goodbye, Winona." He squatted in front of the stroller. "And you, too, Miss Willa." The baby gave him a slobbery grin.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Along the kitchen counter, Adam pulled out the Kitchen Aid stand mixer, food processor, baking pans and cooling rack. He began his prep by buttering and flouring the cake pans. Anna walked into the kitchen, carrying bags of groceries on Adam's shopping list.

"Jeez, I thought that bitch was never going to let us out of there," she complained. "I'm all about the case, you know that about me. But this Goodall . . . she hauls us all in on a Saturday to do this bureaucratic, dotting i's and crossing t's budgetary bullshit paperwork that makes Finchbaugh's bullshit seem amateur."

Pulling the bottles of wine and the bourbon from the bags, Adam came up behind her, grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. "Feel better now? Maybe a beer would help."

"Yeah, a beer sounds great," she smiled.

As Adam went to the fridge to get her a cold one, Anna asked, "So? Tell me. What's Raylan like?"

"Honestly?" he asked as he popped the top and poured the beer into a glass for her. "He's kind of a dick."

"How so?" she asked, taking a sip of the beer.

"Well," Adam said thoughtfully. "He didn't like the restaurant. Didn't like all the variety. Ordered bacon and eggs," he laughed. "Complained about the prices, then picked up the tab. The walking tour came to a screeching halt when he came down with allergies. That's why they went back to the hotel. Well, that and so the baby could have a nap."

"Sounds like he likes to be in control of things," Anna listened carefully. She could relate to that. "What about Winona and the baby?"

"Oh, Winona's cool. Pretty lady. Very easy to talk to. You'll like her," Adam reported, pouring sugar into the mixer. "And Willa, the baby? She's too cute. I think she likes me."

"All the ladies like you," Anna said with a grin.

He returned it. "What's not to like?" After a beat he said, "Leave those out, Babe," referring to the mushrooms she was just about to put away in the fridge."

She placed the package of shitakes near him and reached over and took his hand, giving it a little squeeze. "Thanks for taking care of them in my absence. Sounds like Raylan's a tough guy. He's a marshal. I'm not surprised."

"Your mother might be right. There were things about him that reminded me of you," he squeezed her hand back. "It's his height, his frame. His build. He's slender, like you, but very muscular, toned. And there is something about the bone structure of his face. I think it's in the eyes, across the bridge of the nose. His fingers are long and slender, like yours." Adam went back to adding dry ingredients into the mixer. "He's like a taller and more masculine version of your body."

"That what Mama said," she nodded.

"Oh, and there was one more thing," he spoke over the sound of the motor. "His walk. I swear, he walks just like you."

"My walk?" she asked.

"Yeah," he smiled. "Your very _sexy_ walk."

"You think Raylan is sexy?" she teased.

"For a guy," he shrugged. He began to crack the eggs and drizzle the oil into his batter.

"I think sexy is when you cook a gourmet meal for me and our guests," she flirted, rubbing herself against him.

He smiled and protested, "I need to get this cake in the oven." He playfully pushed back.

Her hands began to explore his body, concentrating on the bulge in his jeans. She followed him around the kitchen, teasing him relentlessly as he poured the batter into the pans and placed them into the pre-heated oven. He set the timer and then, he turned toward her and took her into his arms. Their mouths met, clothes flew, and they made urgent love on the kitchen floor.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Raylan woke from his nap to find Winona putting on her makeup. She had showered, done her hair up, and put on a pretty, sleeveless navy dress that clung to her in all the right places.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, applying mascara to her long eyelashes in front of the bathroom mirror.

He began to cough. "Probably better than I sound." He sat up.

"You'd better get in the shower. I put your grey shirt, tie, and slacks on a hanger here, in the bathroom."

"Okay," he said. He noticed Willa was also up in her carrier seat, dressed in a cute little navy and white checkered suit with a matching bib, babbling away.

"Raylan, do you think you might try and be a little nicer to Adam? You were pretty rude to him this morning." There. She said what she'd wanted to say all day.

"Well, you were nice enough for both of us," he replied. He sounded a bit miffed.

"Don't play jealous because I know you're not." She brushed powder on as a finishing touch to her make-up and turned to him. "He's a nice guy. Give him a break."

"The guy's a pussy," Raylan croaked, stating it as if it was a matter of fact.

"He's a metro man," she countered. "And he's your sister's boyfriend. She cares about him."

"You mean my _alleged_ sister's boyfriend," he corrected her. "He's her _pretentious_ boyfriend."

"And what was with your constant cracks about spending money?" she asked, turning towards him with her hand on her hip. "We've been spending money all week. Why all of a sudden . . . and in front of Adam? Raylan, I was embarrassed by your rude behavior!"

"I know. I'm sorry," he apologized, losing his voice. "I'm worried about money," he confided.

"Why?" she asked. "What's changed in the last 24 hours that I don't know?"

He now had her full attention. "I've been summoned to appear in front of Assistant Director Goodall, first thing Monday mornin'," he admitted. "She knows, Winona. She knows I used her password."

Winona stepped closer to the bed. She knew something more than meeting Anna Rulé had been bothering him. This explained it. "You have to be in Miami to see Karen by Monday?"

"No," he shook his head. "Her post is here. Now that she's now a big wig, she's housed at the head office in Arlington, Virginia, 'bout 10 minutes from here . . . if there's no traffic. She musta just been in Miami last week."

"Oh," she sat down next to him on the bed. "Well, at least you're already here, nearby," she tried to make light. After a moment she asked, "Are you worried about losing your job?"

Raylan reached over and put his arm around her shoulder. "I think I can convince her I had a good reason for doin' what I did. I'm gonna tell her the truth."

"About looking for your sister?" she asked. "Yeah, I think that would be a good idea."

"Hey," he shrugged. "I've talked myself outta far worse before," he smiled, trying to believe his own bullshit.

Winona reached up and placed her hands on his face. His eyes looked like he had a bad cold. His voice was hoarse. He didn't have a fever.

He brought her in for a hug, being very careful not to mess her hair or makeup. "Ya' look beautiful," his voice cracked.

"Thank you," she said. "You sound terrible."

"Like I said," I sound far worse than I feel. "That pill did dry me out. I'm pretty sure it's allergies, and I'm not contagious." Giving her another hug, he said," I'd better go take that shower. Let's go meet Anna."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"You look gorgeous," Adam said, peering over her shoulder. Their eyes met in the mirror, hers doubtful.

"It's not too . . . busy?" She nodded to the wild black and white print of the sleeveless maxi-dress.

"I like it," he assured her. "But then, I liked the other three dresses you had on, too."

"Should I put my hair up?" She lifted it off her neck and turned her head, first one way, then, the other to look at it.

He squeezed her shoulders. "You look fine either way. Don't be nervous." 

"I don't know why I am. I'm never nervous."

He backed away, pulling a white, collarless shirt out of the closet and shrugging into it. "It's not every day you meet your brother for the first time." He tucked the shirt into his dark denim jeans and slipped a black belt through the loops.

"Half-brother," she corrected. "_Maybe_."

Adam laughed. "If he's not your brother, I'll eat McDonald's for a week."

That earned him a smile. "Wow. You must be damn sure." She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his mouth. "I'll take that bet." Releasing him, she bent and retrieved a package from the black leather satchel leaning against the dresser.

"What's that?"

She handed it to him. "DNA testing kit. We can have the preliminary results in a week, and the final results within three."

He followed her out of the bedroom with the envelope. "What? He walks in, and you're gonna say, 'Nice to meet you, can I have some DNA?'"

She turned and looked at him. "It's smart, don't you think?"

"Well, yeah, but maybe not tonight." He slid open a drawer in the buffet table and lay the envelope inside, softly shutting it. "Let's just enjoy the food and the company, okay?"

From the dining room, they heard the doorbell ring.

"It's _Show Time_," Anna said, letting out a deep exhale while leading Adam by the hand.

Anna opened the front door and ushered everyone inside. "I guess everyone met everyone earlier today, except for me. I'm Anna, of course."

Raylan, who insisted on wearing his Stetson, and earned a strange look from the cab driver for it, tipped the brim. "I'm Raylan." His scratchy throat had him sounding like a long-time smoker. "This is Winona and our daughter, Willa."

Anna, a little overwhelmed, noticed Raylan was carrying the baby's carrier. She was almost eye to eye with the man, who was only about four inches taller than her. He studied her as well.

In the awkward silence, Adam suggested, "Why don't we all go into the family room where there is more space? I've got some drinks and appetizers ready for us in there. Follow Anna."

Adam and Winona hung back, watching Raylan and Anna walk ahead. They looked at each other in astonishment. It was true. Anna and Raylan shared a very unique walk. And the similarity in their slight muscular builds was uncanny.

"So, what can I get you to drink?" Anna asked Raylan.

"Ya' wouldn't happen to have a bourbon, would ya'?" he asked in his best Kentucky accent.

"Well, we did. Until Adam used it in the cake," Anna said, channeling hers from New Orleans.

"No, no," Adam corrected her. "There's more than half a bottle left."

"Excellent," Anna said. "I'll join you in one. How do you take yours?"

"Over ice," Raylan croaked.

"That some cold you have there," she acknowledged, as she walked into the kitchen to get some ice. The open floor plan allowed them to continue talking over the island.

"I'm pretty sure it's allergies," he said, his voice about gone. He coughed, sounding wheezy. "Although I've never had 'em before."

"I never had them until I moved here," Anna shared. "Turns out I'm allergic to the tree pollen around here. Crape Myrtle in particular, this time of the year."

"Do say?" He wondered if shared allergies were an indication of shared parentage.

"Winona, what can I get for you?" Anna asked, finally turning attention to her and the baby. "We have about every liquor you can think of. Beer. Wine. And some flavored vodkas."

"I've got a bottle of champagne chilling," Adam interjected. "Would you like a glass?"

"Yes, that sounds fun," Winona smiled.

Raylan sat Willa in her carrier, up on the bar, where she commanded 'ooohs and ahhhhs' from Anna and Adam. Winona handed her the monkey and her toy keys to wave around as she babbled and smiled.

"Anna," Raylan said, barely above a whisper. "I hate to come off as blunt, but I'm a _'cut to the_ _chase'_ kinda guy. What do you say to the two of us doin' a DNA test as soon as possible?"

Winona cringed at Raylan's rather rude approach.

On the other hand, Anna shot Adam a look but of a different kind. "Would you mind?" she asked him, sending him down the hall.

When he returned with the kit, it gave a sigh of relief to all.

"All we have to do is swab the inside of our cheeks for sixty seconds and mail it in. We'll have preliminary results in a week," she explained to Raylan. "The final result comes two weeks after that."

Anna broke open the kit and read Raylan the instructions aloud. They decided to do it before eating or drinking anything, per the instructions. As the two of them conducted the test, Adam brought out a crudité platter with hummus for dipping and popped the cork on the chilled bottle of champagne. He poured some for Winona and for himself in crystal flutes.

After Raylan and Anna each swabbed their cheek for the required 60 seconds, they placed the swab in the designated containers and screwed on the lid, sealing them tight. They filled out the label and the paperwork, and Anna placed their samples in the fridge to be shipped overnight with the enclosed ice pack on Monday.

To celebrate, Anna handed Raylan a glass of bourbon, keeping one for herself. Raising her glass, she toasted, "To DNA testing."

"Cheers," Raylan croaked with a grin. He thought he caught a glimpse of something familiar in Anna's face, hoping he wasn't buying into the contagion of wishful thinking by Adam, Winona, and Marguerite Dumois.

_(To be continued . . .)_


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9_

_Getting to Know You . . . Carefully_

Dinner was forced. While the food was delicious, the social interaction mostly consisted of polite small talk between Raylan and Anna, peppered with giggling and side conversations about music and cooking and art between the slightly inebriated Adam and Winona. A little intermittent babbling and whining was provided by Willa.

Earlier in the evening, Anna as much as said there was no point in them sharing details about one another's lives until they knew for certain they were related, and Raylan whole heartedly agreed. At the time Winona and Adam exchanged looks that said their opinions differed, and as the evening progressed and more alcohol was consumed, they continued to talk and share information as if things were already settled.

Raylan ate very little. He wasn't hungry, preferring to drink his dinner. Anna was much the same. When it was time for desert and Adam brought out the bourbon cake he made in Raylan's honor, Raylan passed.

Adam had enough to drink to finally say something. "Dude, you could at least give it try."

"Look, man," Raylan raised an eyebrow. "I'm not tryin' to be rude or a hard ass. Truth is, I feel like shit." He had been wheezing all night.

"He's telling the truth," Winona said to Adam, her speech slurred a little. "He's being rude and a hard ass because he really does feel like shit. But Adam. Honestly? This cake is to die for."

"Thank you, Winona," Adam gushed gratitude to his newest groupie. "You know, I'm playing later tonight with my band if you want to come and listen to us."

"That sounds like fun," Winona said with champagne stars in her eyes. This guy was cosmopolitan and led a life so different than hers. "But with Willa here, and Raylan feeling so lousy, I really shouldn't."

"You can go out with Adam and Anna if you like, Winona," Raylan croaked. "I think I've proven I can take care of Willa for a night. And besides, Willa's already sleepin'."

They all looked over at the baby who had dozed off in her carrier. It was well past her bedtime.

"Oh, count me out," Anna interjected. "I got a text. I have to work tomorrow." Assistant Director Goodall called the task force back to work at 9:00 a.m. Sunday morning. She made a face at Adam and mouthed the word _'bitch'_.

"What do you say, Winnie?" Adam made up a new pet name for Winona. "Would you like to hang out with me and my bandmates for a while? I'll make sure you get back to your hotel safe and sound."

"Sure, go ahead, _Winnie_," Raylan chided. "Willa and I will be fine."

"Well . . ." Winona smiled. "Maybe I could go out. Just for _a little while_."

"Great," Adam smiled. "Let me get my jacket and guitar."

"While you're doing that, I'm going to go use the little girl's room," Winona said.

When the two were gone, Raylan looked over at Anna. "Are you okay with them goin' out like this?"

"Why? Are you worried about Winona with Adam?" Anna asked. "Because you don't need to be. They'll be fine."

"Then, I won't," he nodded. "Look, it's been real and all that. I really should be gettin' back to the hotel with Willa."

"Understood," she said, and she truly did understand. "But before you go."

She walked into the living room and pulled out an inhaler from the coffee table drawer.

"I told you I have allergies to D.C. tree pollen in the spring," she explained. "It can throw me into asthma. That wheezing sound you're making? Sounds like asthma."

"Really?" he asked. He'd never had asthma before.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm not a drug pusher, but if you really are related to me, and we share an allergic tendency . . . two puffs of this will open your airways for four to six hours. You could give it a try, since it's a Saturday night. Otherwise, you really do need to see a doctor."

Raylan took the inhaler and blew two puffs into his lungs like she said. It burned at first but then, he could breathe.

"Wow," he said. "That's amazin'." He handed it back to her.

"No. You hold onto that," she said. "I have several others. Maybe you can get in to see a doctor on Monday." After a beat she asked, "Are you two headed back to Atlanta tomorrow?"

"Uh, no," he explained. "We were originally headin' for Miami to go to visit Winona's mother. But then you came up. And as it turns out, I've been asked to take care of somethin' at the Marshals Service office in D.C. on Monday while I'm here." He decided to leave his explanation right there.

"I'm not sure what my schedule is going to be," she began.

"Look, Anna," Raylan stopped her. "I appreciate the hospitality and all. But I don't expect you and Adam to entertain us. Like you said, there's really no point in a lot of emotional investment . . . until we know the deal from the DNA report. I get that."

"Good," Anna sounded relieved. "Because I'm not so sure our significant others do."

Adam and Winona emerged and saw that Raylan was ready to leave with Willa. They decided to take a cab that would drop Raylan and Willa off first. Anna said her goodbyes to Raylan and Winona.

"Raylan?" Anna stopped him on the way out. Adam and Winona went on ahead to give them some privacy. "After meeting me in person, do you think there's a possibility that we are related?"

"Honestly?" Raylan said. "I don't trust myself enough to be able to tell. I think I see some things. I just don't know. How 'bout you?"

"I'm at the same place. Guess it's a good thing we decided to do the testing right away."

With Willa's carrier in one hand, Raylan put his other hand on Anna's shoulder and leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Just in case we are," he said. "And _if_ we are, it would be my pleasure to get to know ya' better."

"Likewise," Anna said, watching him leave with Willa and a parting grin.

"Goodnight," she said, unable to shake the uncertainty that she might, or might not, be watching a part of herself walking away.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Ow!" Winona's muffled yelp woke Raylan from a fitful sleep. Groggy, he'd been dozing as he half-listened for her return.

"You okay?"

"Stubbed my toe on the dresser. Damn that hurts. How is Willa?"

"Fine, still asleep. Did ya' have fun?" he murmured without opening his eyes.

"Umm hmm." She kissed his cheek and sank onto the bed, kicking off her shoes.

"The band played at this cool bar in Georgetown," she gushed. "Lots of people, mostly our age. I was surprised. The bar reminded me of that place we used to go to down in Austin when we were livin' in Dallas. And the band is good! Adam plays guitar and does some singing, too. He has a nice voice. I really think you'd like them." She paused to take a deep breath. "Adam said since Anna has to work again tomorrow, he'd be happy to take us around and show us more of D.C. I'd really like to see the Lincoln Monument, and he wondered if you'd ever been to the Air and Space Museum at the Smithsonian."

He rolled over onto his back and looked up at her. She was flushed and happy. He ran a hand down her arm. "You really wanna go, don't ya'?"

"Well, I'd like to see more of the city, and it might help keep your mind off your meeting with – what's her name?"

"Assistant Director Goodall." He moved one hand from her arm to cup a breast. "I know what could keep my mind off that right now," he said.

"I take it you're feeling better," she gazed down at him.

"Uh huh," he said. He gave a tug with his free hand and pulled her down on top of him, capturing her mouth.

Grinning, she broke the kiss, sliding her dress up so she could straddle him. "Well, we can't have you worrying about your Monday morning meeting on Saturday night."

"Technically, it's Sunday."

"Shut up, Cowboy." She slid a hand into his boxers and lowered her mouth back to his.

After, she snuggled against him, her head on his chest. "What did you think of Anna?"

He took a minute to answer. "She's nice."

She leaned up on an elbow, the better to see his face. "You're afraid to like her too much, aren't you? In case it turns out she's not your sister?"

He sighed. "Maybe. I don't know. I got the feeling there was somethin' she didn't want to tell us. We don't even know what she does."

"Hey now. You agreed when she said you shouldn't share too much."

"Yeah, but . . ."

"I think the DNA test is going to prove it," she said. "So does Adam."

"Oh? You talked about us?" He raised an eyebrow.

"A little, yeah. It's more than just physical stuff. Your personalities are similar. And Anna even has trouble sleeping sometimes, just like you."

"Everyone has trouble sleepin' sometimes," he said.

"True," Winona yawned, and her eyes slid to the port-a-crib. "Speaking of sleep, she's going to be up with the sun."

"Yep. You'd better get some shut eye." He kissed her and rolled onto his side, pulling her in to spoon against him. Within minutes, they were both sound asleep.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

The next morning, Adam met them in the lobby of the hotel. He had his hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore faded jeans and a tight black t-shirt with a barcode printed in white on the front. Raylan had no idea what that was supposed to mean and didn't ask.

"Good morning," Adam said, holding out his hand to Raylan. "Looks like you're feeling better."

Raylan shook it. "I am, thanks."

"Good news," Adam went on, smiling as he held the door open for Winona pushing the stroller. "Annie is going to try to meet us for a late lunch or an early dinner. You all had breakfast, didn't you?" 

"Yes, the hotel has a great buffet," Winona said. "I'm stuffed. And I brought a banana for Willa, just in case."

"Good. We're going to do some walking, but I think you'll enjoy it." They turned onto Constitution Avenue and walked west past the Museum of Natural History, the IRS, and the Department of Justice building. Raylan took over pushing the stroller so Winona could snap pictures along the way with her cell phone camera. The spire of the Washington Monument, braced by scaffolding, stood out against the blue morning sky.

"It's supposed to be finished soon," Adam said, pointing. "Earthquake damage."

They crossed 15th street and paused at the WWII Memorial. A group of old men, several in wheelchairs or with canes, were gathered in front for a photographer to take their picture. Some wore hats denoting their branch of the military, others had medals pinned to their jackets. 

"They bring flights in from all over the country," Adam explained in a quiet voice. "They're called Freedom Honor Flights. Any veteran is eligible, but WWII and Korean vets get priority because they're dying out."

Raylan did the math in his head. In order to have served, all of these men had to be close to ninety. He slipped the Stetson off, a sign of respect as they walked past. They continued, walking along the right side of the reflecting pool towards the Lincoln Memorial. When they reached the bottom of the steps, Winona glanced up, then down at the stroller.

"I'll watch her," Adam offered. "I've seen the man many times. You two go on up."

Raylan hesitated, but Winona took his hand. "Come on," she said, tugging on him. They climbed the steps together and stood gazing up at the magnificent statue. Even though quite a few people were milling around, it was mostly silent.

"It's like being in church," Winona murmured.

Raylan turned, reading the words carved into the stone. "We hadta memorize the Gettysburg Address in eighth grade. Miss Barker made each of us recite it in front of the whole class. Johnny Crowder was so nervous, he threw up his lunch in the wastebasket."

"Eww." Winona screwed up her face. "You weren't nervous?"

"I was, but Helen told me to pick one person and just act like I was talkin' to just them. So, I stared at the back row and gave the whole speech to Becky Gorslin."

"A girl, of course," she teased, elbowing him. "Was she pretty?"

"Not as pretty as you." He reached over and grabbed her by her waist and brought her in for a squeeze.

"Smile," she said, pulling her cell phone out and leaning into him. She snapped a selfie with the statue of Lincoln in the background.

Raylan was just about to pull Winona in even closer for a kiss when he spied Adam in his peripheral vision, standing at the bottom of the Monument steps, bouncing Willa in his arms, and waving at them. Raylan thought that the guy looked like some kind of a goofy clown who sucked the romance right out of the moment.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

The task force was called to resume at 10:00 a.m., given the luxury of an extra hour of sleep on Sunday. Late nights with no days off were fast becoming the norm from the leadership.

Bad coffee and stale donuts for breakfast with vending machine sandwiches for lunch, a courtesy of the combined Agencies' low budgets were also becoming the norm and a bore to Anna. So was missing her morning run. She was a finely tuned animal who functioned best on routine and discipline. Good food, good sleep, with regular exercise and sex made Anna hum. The Agency's protocol of feeding their agents caffeine and carbs, like Pavlov's dogs, made her restless, bloated, with a short fuse.

Her dear Adam tried to mitigate some of the damage by packing her a healthier breakfast and a lunch. Today, he packed a couple of hard boiled eggs, fruit, yogurt, almonds, hummus, raw veggies, and a whole grain pita bread. She caught a lot of slack from some of the other taskforce members for eating 'twigs.'

There was a white board in the room with details of the organization being sketched in based on phone taps and intercepted email and message texts.

Assistant Director Karen Goodall was a taskmaster. Dressed in slacks and a Marshal Service polo shirt with her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, Anna thought she might be a nice looking woman if she wasn't such a ball buster. Goodall divvied up mountains of communications data among the three agencies to be analyzed each morning, and after lunch, she would gather them together and ask them to share their progress, usually resulting in hours of more data to analyze before they could be dismissed for the day.

Anna stared at the board and tapped her pencil on the desk. "Who's this guy?" She used the pencil as a pointer, indicating a name connected to Kendrick's by a red line. Squinting without her glasses, she read it out loud. "Leon Arndt."

One of the Homeland Security agents whose name she couldn't remember flipped open a folder and read in a monotone voice. "Leon Arndt, 39, 6' 5", 240. Associations include but are not limited to Aryan Nation, American Freedom Party, American Nazi Party. Lots of petty offenses as a juvie, escalating into his twenties. Finally served four years in Kentucky State Prison for assault. Left a guy in a coma. Runs in the family. Father died in prison and his brother, Karl Arndt, is in Big Sandy right now for attempted murder. Rumor is that now Leon's freelancing as a hired enforcer." He put the folder down and went back to the vending machine sandwich on his desk.

"I'll check with my Kentucky source and see if he's heard of him," Goodall said. She slid a glance at Anna but the FBI Agent gave no reaction. The Marshal glanced at her watch. "Alright, I said I'd try to get you out of here early today. We'll get back at it tomorrow. Eight o'clock sharp."

No one wasted any time, all of them leaving quickly, before Goodall, the taskmaster, could change her mind.

_(To be continued . . .)_


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10_

_Steak Night_

It was after five when Anna arrived at Bobby Vann's steak house. She and Adam weren't big meat eaters, so they had never before been to the upscale establishment. _"This must have been Raylan's idea," _she thought to herself. The hostess led her to a linen-covered four-top cozied in a darkened corner of the grand room. She slid her tall, slender form into the empty seat between Adam and Raylan. At this time of evening, there weren't many people there.

Adam turned his head for a kiss. "Glad you could make it."

"Me, too," she said. "Sorry it took so long. Traffic was tied up. Another demonstration." She looked across the table and smiled at Winona and Raylan. "Did you get to see everything you wanted to?"

"We didn't make it to the Air and Space Museum," Raylan answered. "But we sure saw a lot of memorials and monuments."

"You're sounding much better," Anna commented to Raylan, referring to his wheezing. She noted his voice was a little lower this day.

"Yeah," he nodded. "That inhaler seems to have done the trick. Thanks."

"No problem." Changing the subject back to their afternoon, Anna commented, "It seems like they're putting up a new monument every month." Without missing a beat, she asked, "Winona could you please pass the bread?"

Winona picked up the basket containing a variety of breads, and Anna grabbed a pretzel roll, twisting it apart and smearing one end with butter.

"Sorry," Anna mumbled, swallowing. "I'm starving."

The waiter appeared with a tumbler of bourbon for Raylan, a dish of apple sauce for Willa, and a bottle of red wine. After he poured, Adam slid one glass of wine to Anna. "This is that Malbec we had last week."

"Umm," she said, taking a sip. "I'm glad you remembered."

"I also remembered the mushroom appetizer you like. We got some mussels, too," Adam said. He passed another glass of wine to Winona and raised his. "To fam . . .," he began then, catching the glance between Raylan and Anna, changed his toast, ". . . possibilities." He gave Winona a wink, as their glasses clinked.

Willa, who had been a little angel all day, began to fuss a little.

"Here you go, Punkin'," Winona said, distracting her baby with the promise of pureed fruit.

"Winnie. Do you think I could I feed her?" Adam volunteered.

"Really?" Winona smiled.

Adam was seated next to Winona with Willa's carrier stand in between them. The two had decided to let Raylan and Anna sit together for some more bonding time, whether they wanted it or not. It could be the last time they would see one another for a while.

"Sure," Adam confirmed, taking the dish of applesauce and a baby spoon from Winona, as she put a bib around the baby. "This is as close to being around a baby as I'm ever going to get now that my youngest niece is in kindergarten."

"Here we go again," Anna leaned over towards Raylan, speaking out of the side of her mouth.

Adam overheard her. "I'm clear you don't want to have children," he said to Anna, gently spooning the applesauce into the hungry baby's mouth. "But that doesn't mean I don't miss the opportunity to be around little ones."

Anna raised an uncomfortable, disapproving eyebrow at Adam.

Raylan picked up on the cue. "I'm afraid we all gotta little bit of a head start," he said to Anna, tapping his tumbler of booze with a spoon. Pointing his head in the direction of Adam and Winona, he continued to clue her in. "This is my third and these two are a bottle ahead of ya'."

Changing the subject, Winona said, "Adam was telling us earlier that you're a realtor. I was married to a realtor. Hard work, long hours," she continued running at the mouth. "Especially on weekends."

Again, Anna raised that eyebrow, only this time, she was annoyed that Adam had been talking to them about her business. "Yeah. It's a living," she said, trying to be as brief as possible.

"I thought maybe I could do that part time, when Willa is a little older," Winona continued to chit chat. "Sell real estate. I used to help my ex with the paperwork."

"Your dead ex," Raylan said under his breath. "This is news to me," Raylan shifted his weight in his chair, also uncomfortable that she was discussing their personal business in front of this couple they barely knew. "You're not goin' back to court reportin'?"

"Well, I don't want to go back to full time until Willa is much older, and there's no money in court reporting part-time," Winona explained. "There's no money in marshaling, either." She let out a little laugh.

About that time, Raylan's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to find a text message from Karen Goodall.

"_Where are you?"_

"_D.C.," he texted her back._

"_Meet me at the U.S. Courthouse Building at 3__rd__ and Constitution (DC) in the conference room at 9 a.m. sharp."_

"_I'll be there," he replied._

Returning his attention back to the table, Raylan figured that last crack Winona made about his job had something to do with his command meeting with the Assistant Director. Winona was worried about him losing his job. So was he.

The waiter interrupted them by placing the mushrooms in the center of their table and asked if they were ready to order. None of them had looked at the menu and asked for a few more minutes.

Glancing down the page, Anna asked Raylan, "So, how much longer do you think you'll be in our fair city?" She was tiring of these meetings of 'Twenty Questions.'

"We'll head out for Miami, as soon as my meetin' is over in the mornin'," he answered.

"You'll need to get back to your hotel and pack," Anna gave him an out for an early evening. "I've got an early morning meeting, myself."

Winona tilted her head towards Adam as he fed Willa another bite. "All work and no play?" She tried to keep her voice down.

"Don't you know it," Adam chuckled. "Don't tell me. Raylan's all work and no play, too."

"Don't you know it," Winona parroted back.

"Hey. I heard that," Raylan said, flashing a look Winona's way and adding, _"Winnie."_

"I hope you're having fun with this," Anna chimed in, speaking to Adam. "Because it's no fun being on this end."

Once again, the waiter's timing was impeccable. He stepped in and asked if they were all ready to order. After a series of nodding heads, Winona began.

"I'll have the Surf and Turf," she said. "Steak cooked medium-well with the arugula pear salad."

The waiter asked Anna, "And you, Miss?"

"Hmmmm. I think I'll have the broiled copperhead salmon with a side of the grilled vegetables and rice pilaf." As an afterthought, she said, "And could we get another one of these appetizers?"

It was almost gone. The waiter then turned his attention to Raylan.

"I'll have the Porterhouse," he read. "Medium-rare. Baked potato with the works and a side salad with ranch dressin', if you have it. And another one of these." He tapped his almost empty glass.

"We do," the waiter acknowledged before turning his attention to Adam.

Adam smiled with widened eyes. "I _have_ to try the Bouillabaisse. And I know it doesn't go, but I also must have a taste of the prosciutto mac and cheese."

"Awww," Winona let out a sigh of disappointment. "I was going to try that."

"Me, too" Anna chimed in.

Closing his menu and handing it back to the waiter, Adam said to the ladies, "We'll all share." Back to the waiter, he added, "And how about another bottle of the Malbec." Looking at Anna, he said, "You have some catching up to do."

As the waiter walked away, Raylan rambled, feeling no pain from his third drink. "Funny how so often ladies will order rabbit food and then, eat all the good stuff off their man's plate."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were directing that comment towards me," Winona said. "Is that why you ordered such predictable sides?"

"I've learned," Raylan said. "The hard way."

"I don't know, Raylan," Adam joined in. "It's kind of sexy to have a woman eat off your plate. Don't you think?"

Raylan huffed. "Well, yeah. But not steak and comfort food. Now, maybe ice cream." He shot a smile over at Winona and placed his hand high up on her thigh, under the table.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"I'm stuffed," Raylan groaned, flopping down on the bed. Winona kept one eye on him as she carefully took a sleeping Willa out of the carrier and lay her in the port-a-crib.

"I imagine you are. You just ate a huge steak and drank half a bottle of bourbon."

"Yeah, we both had a little too much to drink tonight," Raylan wasn't going to fight it. "I think a late checkout is in order before we head out for Miami."

"Do you think you could pack up your things tonight? I'll take care of mine and Willa's," she said, standing with her hands on her hips. "I took care of _all _the packing last time."

Raylan walked over to her, his face closing in for a kiss. "Yes, you did." After one, he added, "And I appreciated it."

After a second, Winona reminded him, "You've got to be up early. Did you set the alarm? Call for a wake-up call?"

Nuzzling her neck, he said in a low voice, "You afraid I won't wake up on time?"

"Well . . . yes," she answered, her body past the point of responding to him. "This meeting is kind of important, don't you think?"

Raylan reached over and dialed "0" on the phone on the nightstand. "Could I get a 7 o'clock wake-up call in the mornin'? Thank you." After hanging up the receiver, he murmured and returned to her neck, "Now, where was I?"

Winona resisted a little. "You need to be in Alexandria at 9:00. Did you give yourself enough time?" 

He sighed. "Karen texted durin' dinner. I'm meetin' her in DC. Not far from here. Can we just forget about her and this stupid meeting for a little while?" Raylan's warm breath was now heading down, towards her cleavage. He began unbuttoning her top. He had already peeled her bra away to expose her breast and began to work his magic.

Winona plunged her fingers into his hair and backed him closer toward the bed. Raylan sat down with her standing before him and continued to undress her. She helped with her panties and kicked off her shoes, as well as pulling his boots off. Pushing his shoulders to lean him back, she began to return the favor, unzipping his jeans and tugging them off along with his boxers. Lowering herself to her knees, she skillfully took him into her mouth. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the ride.

After a time, Raylan's breathing changed, and he began to slowly move against her mouth. He reached over the nightstand to retrieve a condom. She took it from him and rolled it on. He watched her, thinking as always that she was the sexiest woman he'd ever known. She straddled his hips and lowered herself onto him. He reached for her and began to forcefully thrust an upward motion. He filled her, and Winona let out soft moans.

Raylan slowed their pace and sat up, burying his face in her breasts, paying attention to each with his mouth. Winona methodically ground her hips until she established a rhythm that slowly built to her waves of pleasure. Feeling she was close, he grabbed her hips and pushed himself deeper until her release set her body quaking.

He held her tight until the quaking subsided. "I love you," he whispered.

She answered him, breathless. "I love you, too."

Raylan covered her mouth completely with his and kissed her deeply, as he flipped her so that he was on top. He moved deep inside her, thrusting, until his own release was impending. He waited for her to catch up to him, and when she did, they climaxed together, letting out all the tensions of the day and the worries of the morning ahead.

Out of breath, Raylan tenderly kissed Winona's face and held her close in his arms. He closed his eyes and together, they drifted off to sleep.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

The sun was rising above the horizon when Anna rounded the corner, breathing fast, her arms pumping.

"Come on," she hollered over her shoulder. "You can do it."

"Don't . . . you dare," Adam huffed. She heard another intake of breath as he came up behind her. "Slow down."

"Don't worry," she smirked. "I won't."

When the front stoop of their brownstone came into view, the pot of geraniums perched on the ledge . . . Anna picked up her pace, running full out.

"Arrrgh!" Adam pulled past her at the last minute, stretching out his arm and grabbing the railing. Breathing hard he collapsed on the step.

Anna sat beside him, catching her breath. "Good workout. I sure as hell needed it." Already, she was dreading the length of the day ahead, sitting.

"You trying to kill me?" he asked, panting. But he was grinning.

Anna laid a hand on his sweat drenched shoulder. "Too tired for another workout?" She slid her gaze to his, raising an eyebrow.

"Why Ms. Rule, are you trying to seduce me?"

Anna glanced at her watch. "Maybe," she said with a grin of her own.

She pulled out her key to enter the brownstone. Once inside they peeled off their running clothes and shoes, strewing them down the hallway. Anna headed straight for the shower, off their bedroom, and turned the water on. She turned around and pulled Adam in, under the warm spray.

Grabbing a bar of soap, she began to soap him up . . . starting with his well-defined chest, muscular shoulders, his built biceps and forearms. He took the bar out of her hands and began to soap her up as well, paying extra attention to her small but beautifully filled breasts.

By the shoulders, Anna pulled him towards her, out of the spray, for a kiss. His body involuntary responded against her. She took the bar of soap back from him and began to suds up his abdomen, moving lower. Adam leaned against the shower wall and groaned.

Adam moved the water with his hand, rinsing the suds away, while Anna followed the sheeting water with her hungry kisses. She stooped down and took him into her mouth. She knew how to make her lover weak in the knees. Soon, he could stand it no more, and he reached for her, bringing her up to her feet. He spun her around in one quick motion so that she was the one with her back against the tile. She wrapped a long leg around him, and he grabbed hold of her thigh as he entered her.

Anna's fingers dug into Adam's back. His mouth covered hers, hungry for her. He was always hungry for her, as she was for him. He loved her hard, and she gave him as good as she got, until she felt herself over the edge. A few thrusts later, Adam pulled out and followed her release. She grabbed both sides of his face and kissed him, grateful. For much like the run, she needed this.

Adam allowed Anna to finish showering first. Afterwards, Anna toweled off and headed for the bathroom vanity. She glanced at the clock. "Shit," she said under her breath. She had twenty minutes to get to the Metro.

Quickly, she applied deodorant and began to brush her teeth.

"I don't know what time I'll be home again tonight," Anna spoke to Adam through the shower door, as she spit toothpaste into the sink. "Depends on when the bitch cuts us loose."

"I'm working at the restaurant today," he said from under the spray. "How would you like me to bring you home some _ravioli ricotta e spinaci_? It heats up well . . . whenever you get home. Plus, you could take some for lunch tomorrow. By the way, I made your lunch and snacks. It's in the fridge."

"You're so good to me," she praised him. "You're saving me from that cheap-ass crap they try to pass off to us as food. I don't know why our Government spends so much money recruiting and training us, whipping us into top physical condition. And then, they try and kill us with the garbage they feed us on stake outs or in meetings."

With a comb, she quickly pulled her hair into a tight bun. Her flawless, mocha complexion required little makeup. It was one of the things Adam loved best about her: Anna Rulé was a minimal, no fuss woman.

"It's money, Babe," he offered from the shower. "They push the cheap, government subsidized foods because they're cheaper. Just as they do in the schools. Hospitals." After a beat, he said, "Don't worry. I'll keep you hooked up with the good stuff."

"And once again, you're good to me," she gushed. "Thank you."

"I've got to keep my lady in top physical condition. To keep your stamina up, if you know what I mean," he laughed.

"Hmmm. I do know what you mean," she said. "Hey, Adam, I hate to ask you do to this, but could I ask you to overnight Raylan's and my genetic samples today? They are packed in box also in the fridge, already addressed. It needs to be shipped with the blue icepack that's in the freezer. I'm anxious to get that going, and there is _no way_ I can get out of the task force to take care of a personal errand."

"Sure," he said in a cheerful voice. "The sooner you two get an answer, the better off you both will be."

"You're a life saver, again," she said with a lilt in her voice.

Anna applied cocoa butter to her face, arms, and hands. She continued to moisturize her legs, knees, and her feet. She followed that with a touch of concealer under her eyes. A little eye pencil, one coat of mascara, and lip gloss, and she was good to go.

After putting on a clean bra and panties, Anna went to the closet and selected a lightweight navy suit with a powder blue shell. Dressed in no time, she slipped her feet into a pair of commuter shoes and placed her navy pumps in her tote bag.

Adam stepped out of the shower and wrapped a fresh towel around him, when she rushed up to give him a quick peck goodbye. He gave her a parting, lingering squeeze.

Anna made it to her station on time, only to find the train was running late. "Damn it." She would be late, too. She hated being late, especially on a Monday morning. Started her week off bad.

Luckily for Anna when she arrived at the task force conference room, the bitch wasn't there.

_(To be continued . . .)_


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter 11_

_The Bitch_

Later that same morning, Raylan forwent the traffic and took a cab from his hotel to the Courthouse at 3rd and Constitution. After going through Security, he was directed to Assistant Director Goodall's temporary office up on the 2nd floor.

"Karen," he said, upon entering the lion's den, closing the door behind him. "Before ya' say anything, I can explain," he began in an attempt to beat her to the punch.

"You look good," the Assistant Director deflected him with an inviting smile. Fully aware of the meeting she called with Raylan, Karen Goodall made sure to wear one of her more form fitting suits, complete with a clingy, pencil skirt and a hemline that showcased her still fabulous legs.

"As do you," Raylan said, removing the Stetson from his head out of respect. He would have to be a blind man not to notice the dangerous curves on this woman.

Placing her hands on her hips, Goodall instantly switched modes from Raylan's former lover to his Assistant Director. "What could you possibly have to say that would justify using my password to hack into FEMA's site?"

He answered, flashing a grin, "Ya' shoulda changed your password long before now?"

While angry with her marshal, she always did appreciate his quick wit and memorable skill in the bedroom. "While that may be true and trust me, it has since been changed . . . Why'd you do it, Raylan?"

"Hey, I was just as shocked that your password was still good as you probably were that I remembered it," he shrugged his shoulders.

Goodall's steely glare showed him she was no longer amused.

Still standing near the door, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Okay. Truth? You may have heard my father, Arlo, died in prison not long ago."

"I did hear something," she said, leaning back on her desk. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Don't be," he sighed. "Anyways, I recently came into possession of some family items, includin' the family Bible. In it, there was an entry for a younger sister I never knew about. Two years younger than me." He went on. "I investigated as best I could in Harlan County with the little family I have left, and I got some information that the baby girl was privately adopted to a family in New Orleans. A closed adoption through a Catholic parish."

"But the family that you traced is African-American," she stated, confused.

"Yes. Most likely the reason the baby was given up for adoption," Raylan raised a stern eyebrow, "back at that time."

"I see." And it suddenly clicked with Assistant Director Goodall that FBI Agent Anna Rulé was the target of Raylan's investigation. "Were you successful in finding her?" Goodall decided to keep what she knew of Agent Rulé close to her vest, for now.

"Yeah. I tracked her down and finally met her this weekend," he shared. "She's here. In D.C. What are the odds? We're doin' a DNA test."

"That's wise," Goodall nodded. "What did you learn about her?"

"Not much. Like I said, she lives here in DC. Has a boyfriend. Nice enough gent, but he's a little too metro for my taste. She's a realtor who works lousy hours. That's about it, really. Anna and I mutually agreed it wouldn't do either of us any good to get to know each other too much yet . . . in case it turns out we're _not_ related."

Hearing that Agent Rulé lied to him about what she did for a living, Goodall's interest was piqued. "Did you share anything with her about _your_ work?"

"She knows I'm a Marshal housed in Lexington, but that's all I'm comfortable in her knowin' at this point."

The Assistant Director leaned back a little further against her desk to show more of her shapely legs. "Raylan. If you needed help with this, you could have asked me. I would have helped you."

"I know. But it was late that particular night I was searchin' for information. I was on a roll. I'm sorry, Karen." He was literally standing there with his hat his hands. "Truth is, I was so focused on findin' out what happened to a sister I didn't know I had, I wasn't thinkin' about any repercussions."

"You never do," she shook her head and smiled.

He looked at her, waiting for what would come next.

"Have dinner with me. Tonight," she said. Her eyes twinkled. "We'll discuss _your punishment_."

"Karen. I'm with Winona," he sounded concerned. "And I'm a father now, and we're tryin' to make it work, be a family for our daughter. She won't think too kindly of the two of us havin' dinner together."

Crossing her arms defiantly, Goodall responded. "I'm serving on a task force that takes up all my time these days. It's dinner, Raylan. Unless you no longer care about your job?" She knew she had him by the balls.

"Fine," he relented without blinking an eye. "What time?"

"Pick me up here," she said, satisfied she was getting her way. "Eight o'clock."

"I'll be here." He was not looking forward to the conversation he would have with Winona.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

After Raylan returned to the hotel and broke the news about his mandatory dinner with Karen Goodall and went down to the front desk to extend their stay, Winona called Adam. "So . . . it turns out we're not leaving today, after all," Winona said with a long sigh.

"Yeah?" Adam asked. "You sound disappointed. We could have some more fun while you're here."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. It's not you I'm disappointed in," Winona said. Trying to be careful about what she was about to say, she proceeded with caution. "Raylan's superior is being a hard ass. After their meeting this morning, he has to meet with her, again, for dinner tonight."

"I know all about hard ass bosses," Adam commiserated. "I'm probably on my own for dinner tonight, myself. Anna's working late, again."

After a pause, he continued. "I'm subbing for a good friend of mine at a restaurant called Rosa Mexicana in the Penn Quarter today until 5:00. It's not far at all from where you two are staying. A short cab ride away."

"Raylan is down at the front desk now, seeing if we can have the room for another night," she said. "But yeah, that would be fun to catch up with you."

"Rosa Mexicana is an upscale place," he continued. "Reservations only, but I can take care of you and Raylan. The daytime dress isn't fussy. It's pretty crowded between noon and 1:00, but other than that, I can find you all a place to sit. Its café style, but the food is _outrageous_. Come by when you can. I know you have to work around Willa's nap." He paused and continued, "You can do that, or you and Willa and I can hang out at our place tonight. Either, both, neither. It's all up to you, Winnie. Just call me when you get here. I'll come out from the kitchen and take good care of you all."

"You know, I think I will come by. Raylan may or may not want to go. I'll ask him."

Adam laughed. "Hey, tell Raylan for me that lunch at the restaurant is on me this time. He'll like that."

"That is so nice of you," Winona gushed. "Thank you. He probably would like that."

"It's a perk of being I sous chef. Family doesn't pay."

"Even though you and I think Anna and Raylan are related, we really don't know if we're family yet or not," she pointed out the obvious.

"I'm at the UPS Store right now," he shared. "Shipping off the lab samples for genetic testing, overnight delivery. By the way, I'm not technically related to anyone. By blood or marriage. But it feels like I am."

"There's no way to convince Anna to marry you?" she asked. "You two are so good together."

Adam laughed. "With her track record, she's afraid she'll jinx us if we get married. I will take that lady any way I can get her."

"Yeah, they're related," she smiled. "I feel the same way about Raylan. Even when his job pisses me off."

How she wanted to share with him the bad vibe she always got whenever Raylan ever brought up the subject of Karen Goodall. Staying in town for dinner, alone, with her man? And their history? No. She did not like the sounds of this at all. But once again, she thought the better of saying anything to Adam.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"That's an awfully nice offer, Adam," Raylan said, scooping up some of the restaurant's famous tableside guacamole on a homemade chip. "You sure it's okay with Anna if we bunk with you for a night?"

"We never use the second floor," Adam said. "The bedroom is small, but it has its own bath with a stand up shower. I get off at five, I'll make up the bed and put some towels in the bathroom, and we're all set."

"Thank you so much!" Winona gushed. "We didn't know what we were going to do with the hotel all booked up."

"Some Insurance convention," Raylan explained with a shrug of his shoulders.

"No worries. I'll even fix us a light supper while Raylan has his dinner meeting." He glanced over his shoulder. "I need to get back in the kitchen. Enjoy your meal, and I'll see you later."

Raylan munched another chip as he watched Adam walk away. "Even I gotta admit that's awfully nice of him to offer us a place to stay. I just hope it's okay with Anna."

"I'm sure it will be," Winona said. "I mean, what else are we going to do?"

"I 'spose we could get started and find a motel on the road," he took a sip of his second Corona.

"I know you aren't happy about this meeting. Considering that you're already drinking and it's just past noon, I'm going to nix that idea." She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "At least she's probably not going to fire you over dinner."

"Probably not," he admitted.

Winona bit her lip. "What's with the dinner thing anyway? Do you think she . . .?" Winona stopped. "Never mind."

"What?" Raylan's eyes slid to Willa, yawning in her carrier, then settled on hers. "You're my girls. I'm not gonna let anything jeopardize that."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Keep the change," Raylan said. He handed the cabbie a ten spot, more than enough to cover the short ride. When he began to exit the cab in front of the courthouse, Karen Goodall showed up out of nowhere and ushered him back in the cab.

"You're right on time," she gave a confident smile, sliding into the backseat beside him. "Friendship Heights," she directed the cabbie. "5335 Wisconsin Avenue."

"Yes, ma'm," the cabbie replied, resetting the meter and leaving his two passengers to their conversation.

As the cab took off, Raylan removed his Stetson off his head and placed it on the seat between them.

"Do I scare you that much?" Karen smiled, flashing a lot of bright, white teeth.

Raylan sucked in a deep breath. He was smiling as well to hide his nervousness. "Well. I must say, you sure don't look like any Assistant Director I ever saw."

He was referring to the fact that she had changed her clothes. From the clingy business suit, she was now wearing a pair of skinny, white linen slacks and a sexy black halter top that showed off her tanned and muscular arms, shoulders, and back. Her dark tresses tousled around her pretty face. In fact, he could have sworn he caught a little side boob action when she entered the cab.

"Thanks," she said, still smiling. "You're looking well. Fit."

There was a steamy heat coming from the woman beside him. Karen Goodall oozed sexuality. She was combustible. She smelled good, too.

"So, how have you been?" Raylan asked, trying to make small talk . . . keeping the focus of the conversation off of him.

"Good," she nodded. "I work hard. Play hard. You know me."

He nodded, his lips sealed tight.

She turned towards him, drawing up her knees in the seat, revealing a familiar butterfly tattoo on the inside of her left ankle and her perfectly pedicured toes peeking from the sexy sandals she wore. Her fawn brown eyes glistened. "I was thinking about what you said today in my office. About wanting to be a family man. For your daughter."

"Yeah," Raylan confirmed.

Karen reached over and touched his arm with her index finger. "I've worked with a lot of marshals. Do you really think you're cut out to be the _'family man'_ type?"

Karen Goodall knew there one person in the entire U.S. Marshal Service who matched her sexually. And that was Raylan Givens. She should know. She had the pleasure to have known him literally . . . in the biblical sense.

"You know me, too," Raylan nodded, his jaw set firm. "I'm gonna try my damnedest and make this work with Winona . . . because I want it to work. And I want _you_ to respect that. Please. I'd do the same for you, if the shoe was on the other foot. Especially if you asked me to."

She looked at him. Studied him. He was going to be a challenge. Karen Goodall loved a challenge.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Can I help?" Winona wandered into the kitchen in bare feet, Willa on her hip.

"You can grab the wine out of the fridge," Adam said. "Oh, and the colander."

Winona set the bottle of Pinot Gris on the counter and reached back in for the copper colander. She asked, taking a whiff of the lumps of white meat, "Is this crab meat?"

Adam looked up, alarmed. "You aren't allergic, are you?"

"Oh, no." She shook her head. "I _love_ seafood. What are you making?"

"Just a light crab salad and some homemade bread. The butter is fresh, too, and there are strawberries for dessert. I stopped by the farmer's market on the way home." He watched Winona as he opened the wine. She circled the kitchen, bouncing Willa lightly, her look pensive. "You don't like Raylan's boss?"

She pulled a barstool out and sat, plopping Willa onto her lap. The baby smacked her hands on the counter and screeched. "Gah! Ma-ma-ma-ma!"

"Can she have a carrot to gnaw on?" Adam slid a peeled one across the counter. "It's organic."

"She's had mashed carrots, but she might like something to chew. Thanks." She picked it up and handed it to Willa. The baby eyed it, turning it over and over before stuffing one end in her mouth, gumming it happily.

Winona tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've never met this boss," she said. "But I saw her in the office once. She's pretty." After a beat she continued, "I like Raylan's immediate boss just fine. We've known Art since he and Raylan taught firearms at Glynco."

"That's the training center down in Georgia, isn't it?"

Winona looked at him quizzically. "Yes. How do you know about it?"

Adam blew out a breath and shifted away from her, shrugging his shoulders. "Must've heard about it on the news or something. So, what is it about this lady boss you don't like? She have it for your man?" He poured two generous glasses of wine and handed one to Winona.

She took a sip and closed her eyes. "Thank you," she said. "This was just what I . . . we . . . needed. Not the wine, this." She waved her arm, indicating the cozy kitchen. "All the hotel-living was starting to get to me." She shook her head and let out a wry laugh. "Odd, considering."

"Considering what?"

"When Raylan and I got back together, oh, a little over a year ago now, we pretty much lived in a fleabag roadside motel outside of Lexington."

Adam chuckled as he added the crab meat to the lettuce and chopped vegetables in a big glass bowl. "I haven't known you that long, Winnie, but you don't seem the fleabag motel type." He took a sip of wine and studied her. "So, you and Raylan were separated?" She didn't answer right away and Adam jumped back in, apologizing. "Shut me down if I'm prying. Anna hates that."

"No, no, it's okay. We were divorced. Still are, I guess."

Adam tossed some spicy mayo with the salad and put it back in the fridge to chill and let the flavors meld. "You said you were married to a realtor," he recalled. "Was that before Raylan?"

"Between," Winona said with a sad smile. "Might have been better for all concerned if that had never happened."

The cell phone on the counter vibrated and Adam glanced at it. "Anna," he said. He frowned as he scrolled the screen. "She's going to be at work until after nine."

"Gary used to have late nights, too," Winona commiserated. "But then, he was his own boss. Does Anna work for a big firm?" 

"Umm hmmm," Adam mumbled. He took a big sip of wine, and Winona cocked her head, studying at him.

"You know, Raylan seems to think you all are keeping something from us." She took a sip of her own wine. "His instincts are usually pretty good."

Adam flushed. "I'm a terrible liar. Always have been. Never could get away with anything when I was a kid. My mother could see right through me." He chuckled, "My sisters were better at it."

Winona waited, bouncing Willa lightly on her knee. "Gah!" The baby yelled, tossing the now mushy carrot at Adam. Unfazed, he scooped it up off the counter and tossed it in the trash.

"Anna thinks it better you not know what she does until we know for sure that they're related."

"I'm pretty sure they are," Winona said. "How about you?"

He finished his wine in one big gulp. "Yeah, you know I think that Raylan is Anna's half-brother." He poured more wine into Winona's half empty glass and the rest of the bottle into his own. "And like I said, I'm a terrible liar, so now you know she isn't a realtor." After a beat, he added, "But I'm not going to tell you what she does."

"Maybe I can guess," Winona said, grinning at him. Before she could, her own cell phone chimed, and she glanced down at the screen. "It's my sister."

"Here," Adam said, holding out his arms for the baby. "You talk. Willa and I will finish getting dinner ready."

Winona returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, frantically punching at her phone. "My daddy's had another heart attack," she said to Adam. "And Raylan isn't answering his cell phone." She tried again. "Damn it!" 

"Do you know where they went?"

"For dinner?" Winona was flustered. "Raylan's text said they were going to a restaurant in Friendship Heights."

"I know right where that is," Adam said in a comforting tone. "There are quite a few restaurants there. They'd probably avoid the chains and go to someplace local. You keep trying his cell, I'll call a buddy of mine who works out there. There can't be too many guys wandering around D.C. in Stetsons." He patted her shoulder. "Worst case scenario, we pick up a Zip Car and drive out and look for him."

_(To be continued . . .)_


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter 12_

_The Punishment_

After a twenty minute cab ride, Raylan and Karen finally arrived at their destination.

"A cigar lounge?" Raylan raised an eyebrow, taking care of the cab fare and wondering why they were somewhere out in the suburbs. "Really?"

Karen looked over her shoulder. "Good booze. Good food. And yeah, I sometimes enjoy an after dinner cigar."

_Hmmmm. You must really be part of the 'Boy's Club' now,_ Raylan thought to himself.

Once inside, it appeared to Raylan that, from the top notch service they received, Karen was a regular at this place. They were led to a candle lit booth, the table covered in linens, old style. Raylan placed his Stetson on a ledge behind him.

"I'd like the Chivas. 18 Year Old. Neat," Karen told the waiter off the top of her head.

"And you, sir?" the waiter asked Raylan.

"Do ya' have Wild Turkey?" he asked. He was going to need a stiff drink for this dinner.

The waiter rattled off a list. "101, American Spirit, Rare Breed . . . Russel's Reserve?"

"Seein' how the lady's buyin', I'll have the Russel's Reserve," Raylan answered. "Neat as well."

"That's right," Karen smiled, referring to Raylan's remark about the tab. "Let's stick it to Uncle Sam."

After the waiter left, Karen reached across the table and touched Raylan's hand. The candlelight was kind to the lines that had formed in the corners of her eyes, lines that weren't there during the time Raylan knew her. The halter top she wore displayed her full, perky breasts and her nipples, which were erect underneath the clingy jersey fabric. They were hard not to notice. "The reason I wanted to talk to you outside of the office is, I need your help, Raylan."

Raylan raised an eyebrow. _And you're usin' your feminine wiles to get it, no doubt,_ he thought to himself. He tilted his head and waited for her to continue.

"I'm heading a joint task force between the Marshals Service, the DOJ, and the Feebs. We've been investigating a white supremacy group that is classified as a home grown terrorist organization." She leaned over and lowered her voice. "And its ties go right back to your home state of Kentucky."

"Do say?" Raylan was beginning to see a glimpse of _his punishment_.

"Yes. One of the targets is doing time in Big Sandy, as we speak."

Raylan let out a knowing sigh. "Kentucky is not without its share of home grown, racist assholes."

At about this time, the waiter returned with their drinks and took their dinner order. Karen ordered a shrimp Cobb salad and Raylan, the burger and fries.

"Anyway, the taskforce is meeting every day, seven days a week. Here. In D.C.," she said, stopping to take a sip of her Scotch. "Eventually, we'll be spinning off our part to Kentucky."

"And that's where I come in?" he asked, taking a much bigger gulp of his bourbon.

"Yes, but I need you to stay here in D.C. for about a week or so to get up to speed," she said, her gaze intently on him. "You'll be on a per diem. My office will cover your hotel."

Raylan's body bristled and then, he tried to retain complete control. "Ya' know, I'm on vacation. Because of budgetary bullshit. Ya' must know that, right?" he asked, hoping it might make a difference in what she was proposing.

She gave him a wicked smile. "Of course, I know. Art told me." She scooted herself closer to him and seductively licked her lips. This time, it was for certain. Raylan saw some side boob. "The task force is being funded entirely by Homeland Security."

Under the table, Karen ran her fingertips up the length of Raylan thigh. Raylan was only human, and he felt his body betray him as it reacted to this very . . . sexy woman. She knew how to push his buttons. Oh yeah, she knew _exactly_ what she was doing.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Raylan shook his head, trying to clear it, moving further to the edge of the booth, away from her. "I mean, you and me . . . workin' together in such . . . close proximity."

"I think it's the best idea I've had in a _long, long_ time." Karen moved even closer towards him, her fingers stroked higher on his leg as she said _'long, long.'_

She knew how to turn him on. It was as if his body had wired in memory as to how she turned him on. He was fighting with himself.

He grabbed her hand under the table and pulled it away from him.

"What's the matter?" she cooed. "Don't tell me you don't like me touching you."

"Oh," he tried to gain his composure. "I like it just fine. But that's not the point, Karen. I'm sorry, but I'm not available to ya' anymore."

Karen pulled her hand back, folding them in front of her on the table. Still, she leaned toward him. "I don't want to marry you, Raylan. I'm not a home wrecker. I just want to have some fun . . . the way we used to do." Her gaze was steady on his, and he was first to look away, clearing his throat.

"I love Winona."

Karen shrugged. "That may be, but didn't she cheat on you? And didn't you mention to me once – we were naked at the time as I recall – that she always hated your job?" She reached across the table, laying her hand on his. "I don't hate your job. I understand it. And I know how good you are at it, among other things." She squeezed. "I could do a lot to help you, you know. It would be a shame if I were inclined to do the opposite."

"Karen," Raylan tugged at his hand, but she wouldn't let go. "This is . . ."

"Harassment?" she purred. "Not hardly. You and I have a _very_, colorful sexual history." Her eyes were fixed on his. "Not to mention, you could do prison time for what you did. Hacking into FEMA's website, using my password."

The waiter arrived just then with their food, but Raylan had lost his appetite. This dinner was taking a disturbing turn. "So, as my sentence ya' want to make _me_ your sex slave?"

She smiled at him. "There are worse punishments."

"Karen, you are a hot, stunnin' woman. You could have any man you want."

There were military men at the bar, many of them were officers, and he indicated them with a sweep of his hand. "Any man here would be thrilled to take you home. But you're zeroin' in on one man who isn't interested. It don't make any sense."

"Oh, you're interested alright," she said. "I can tell." She reached down, boldly stroking his crotch while keeping her eyes locked on his. "And after what you did, if you care about your career . . . if you care about your freedom?" She gave him a little squeeze. He was definitely becoming aroused. "Your mind says no, but your body is saying, _yes_."

"Raylan!" The familiar voice startled him and he looked up, instantly guilty even though he'd done nothing.

"Winona?" His arousal vanished, and he stood, glad to have an excuse to extricate himself from Karen. "What're ya' doin' here? Where's Willa?"

"Willa's outside with Adam. Gayle called. Daddy's had another heart attack, and he's refusing treatment." Winona's face was flushed, her eyes worried. "I need to go home." Her words tumbled out, focused only on him, not even acknowledging the woman in the booth.

Instinctively he reached out, pulling her to him. "I'm sorry. We'll go as soon as we can."

Behind him, Karen Goodall cleared her throat. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that. You're under investigation, and I need you to remain in my jurisdiction. That is, if you want to remain in the Marshal Service."

Winona shot the other woman a murderous look. "What's she talking about, Raylan? Didn't you tell her you were only trying to find your sister?"

Karen scooted out of the booth, nudging Raylan aside so she could stand. Winona looked her up and down, noting her unprofessional attire. Karen returned the scrutiny. "I was just telling Raylan that I couldn't simply let his abuse of our previous intimacy go without punishment. Are you now telling me that you knew what Raylan was doing, hacking into government websites? Are you an accessory? Winona, is it? Do I need for you to remain in my jurisdiction, as well?"

"She didn't know anything about what I was doin'. The computer stuff, the password . . . it's all on me," Raylan cut in, flashing Winona a look that warned her to keep her mouth shut.

Still staring at Winona, Karen said, "If you need to go and see about your father, you'll need to make plans to leave without this one." She pointed over at Raylan.

Winona looked up at her man, fighting the tears that were welling in her eyes. She made up her mind that she was _not _going to cry in front of this horrid woman.

"What do ya' want from me?" Raylan asked Karen in all frustration.

"Effective immediately, you're assigned to the task force. Report to the court house conference room tomorrow at 8:00 a.m. sharp," she said, reaching over into the booth to retrieve her handbag. "And Raylan?" she asked as she was about to leave the two alone. "If you don't show? I'll issue a BOLO on you."

Karen brushed passed Raylan, lingering her touch as she stared down Winona on her way out. "Oh, one more thing. Since your baby mama interrupted our meeting? You can pick up the tab. I'll see you in the morning."

As Karen walked out of the restaurant, Raylan looked over at Winona and opened his arms. "C'mere."

"Raylan," Winona whispered, and he took her in his arms. "What's going on? What are we going to do?"

He tightened his hold on her, hugging her tight. "Don't worry, Winona. We'll figure it out."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"$365 for a non-stop flight," Winona said, setting the phone down on the counter. "And it doesn't leave until after noon tomorrow. I can get there quicker driving. Will you be alright without the car?"

Raylan took a pull from his beer and sighed. "I'll be fine, but I really don't like the idea of you drivin' all that way alone with the baby, especially when you're upset."

"I could drive her," Adam offered.

Winona glanced from Adam to Raylan, noting the tightness in her man's jaw. "That's nice of you Adam, but really, I'm a big girl. I'll be fine."

Raylan cleared his throat, looking down at the floor before fixing his gaze on the younger man. "I'd appreciate that."

"You're kidding me," Winona stared at him.

"I hate that I can't go with you," he said. "It'd make me feel better knowin' you aren't alone."

"But what about your work?" Winona asked Adam. "And the band."

He waved off her concerns. "That's why we have subs. And since I worked Jamie's shift for him all last week, he'll take care of things at the restaurant for me. We can leave in the morning, early, before rush hour."

"Then, we all better get what shut-eye we can," Raylan said. He grabbed the carrier with Willa sound asleep inside it and threw his other arm around Winona. She leaned into him. "'Night, Adam."

"Goodnight."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Anna was dog tired. It was after midnight and she had just gotten home. She would barely have time to get into bed before waking up a few hours later and doing it all over again. She sat in a chair next to her bed, unlacing her commuter shoes, listening to Adam.

"Raylan has to stay here in D.C. He's in some kind of trouble with a higher up in the Marshal Service for getting information on you from government websites when he was trying to track you down. In the meantime, Winona got a phone call from her sister that her father has had another heart attack and is refusing treatment. She needs to go to him. He's in Kentucky."

"But why do you need to go?" Anna asked, her exhausted brain not understanding any of what she was being told.

"Because Raylan can't," he explained. "Winona's a mess. She's afraid she's going to lose her father . . . Raylan doesn't want her driving all that way alone, with a baby no less. And he can't take care of her, can't go with her. Winona, Willa, and I can take off before the morning rush hour. I didn't think you'd mind. I mean, it's not like you're around much these days anyway, with this task force and all."

Adam's remark went right over Anna's head. "I still don't understand why Raylan can't go," she said. "After all, he's stationed in Kentucky."

"Evidently, he's in some kind of trouble here. In D.C." Adam sighed. "By the way, Raylan and Winona are not buying you're a real estate agent anymore," he said. "They don't know what you do, but they know you're not being forthcoming. And they're fine with that . . . for now." He walked across their bedroom and kneeled down beside her chair. "So, you need to understand that they are not telling me or you everything that goes on with them. I don't understand all the ins and outs of why Raylan can't go, either. But I do know he can't go. He would if he could."

She reached over and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "How long do you think you'll be gone?"

"It depends, I guess, on what happens with Winona's dad." He shrugged. "I'll stay as long as she needs me."

"She barely _knows_ you." Anna's weariness made her snap back. "Can't she fly home?"

"Money's evidently a little tight right now. They spent a lot of money looking for you," he tried using the guilt card. "And you know one-way is more expensive. Why are you being so weird about this? I'm just doing a friend . . . maybe a relative . . . a favor."

"I'm sorry," Anna mumbled, pulling her shirt off over her head. "I'm just so tired. The bitch left early tonight for some dinner meeting, but there was so much to do for tomorrow that we couldn't leave." She yawned.

"Dinner meeting?"

"Yeah," he nodded

"And this woman is FBI?"

"No, she's the Assistant Director of the Marshals."

"Oh!" Her eyes widened. "_She's _the boss Raylan is in trouble with?" She shook her head. "Damn. I feel sorry for him."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Raylan kissed the top of Willa's head for the third time and handed her the stuffed monkey. "You be good for Mama, now." Shutting the door of the Lincoln, he turned to Winona. "I'm gonna miss my girls." He put his arms around her, and she tipped her face up for a kiss.

"We'll miss you, too." She bit her lip. "Don't let that . . . _woman_ take advantage of you."

"Don't you worry about her. You're prettier, you're sexier, and I love you. Karen doesn't stand a chance."

She kissed him again. "I love you, too, Cowboy."

Adam came down the steps hand-in-hand with Anna. In his other hand, he carried a battered backpack. When they reached the Lincoln, Adam bent his head to hers and gave her a quick kiss before sliding into the driver's seat. Anna folded her arms over her chest. "Be careful."

"I love you, too," Adam said, grinning. "I'll call you."

"Okay." She stood beside Raylan and watched as the Lincoln disappeared. "You want to get some breakfast?"

"I 'spose we have plenty of time," he said, referring to the ungodly hour of the morning. "Look, I am sorry we ended up on your doorstep, in your house. And now your boyfriend is drivin' Winona and our baby to Kentucky. You sure as hell didn't bargain for any of this. I'll be outta your hair this mornin'. I'm on a per diem and will find some place to stay."

"Just don't steal any of my silver," she said, deadpanned.

He smiled, following Anna inside.

"You and me? We're on our own for breakfast," she said, headed for the kitchen. "Adam's the cook in this house. I can make coffee. That's about it. But there's yogurt, cereal. Ah. I see we have some bagels. I can toast a bagel."

"Coffee and a bagel would be fine," Raylan said, straddling a barstool on the other side of the island. "I want ya' to know that you don't have anything to worry about where Winona is concerned."

"That's funny," Anna said, measuring out the ground coffee she pulled from the freezer. "I was about to reassure you of the same where Adam is concerned."

"Well, good," he nodded. "Sounds like we both picked two fine people as our life partners." After a beat, he added, "That is what you two are . . . right?"

Pouring the water into the coffer maker and turning it on, Anna answered, "As long as the man will put up with me. I'm not the easiest person in the world to get along with."

"Hmmm," Raylan reacted. "Sounds like me. I guess that makes them both _extra_ special."

Changing the subject, Anna gingerly began. "So . . . your plans changed? Now, you're staying in town a while longer. On a per diem?"

"Yeah," Raylan scoffed. "Don't that beat all? How your life can change on a dime."

Pushing a little more, she said, "Adam mentioned you had gotten into some kind of trouble with your boss. Is everything okay?"

Wincing, Raylan carefully proceeded. "It's not as bad as it sounds. I did somethin' in an unorthodox way that got the job done. Now, I have to take my licks for it. But it was worth it."

Anna nodded thinking of her own personal experiences on the job. "Yeah, it usually is."

"I'm no stranger to takin' my licks for doin' things in an unorthodox way," he said, leaning forward on his forearms. "My only regret is that Winona got caught up in the crossfire." He let out a sigh. "I really shoulda gone with her to see about her father. She woulda done it for me. Hell, _she has done it for me_."

Pulling two mugs out of the cabinet, Anna poured the hot coffee into the mugs and added, "There's something to be said for being steadfast and loyal on the job. I'm sure Winona appreciates it."

"Law enforcement is not so conducive to family life," he sighed. "At least not the line of work I'm in. There's risk that comes with the territory. No different than when a firefighter or a police officer gets a call. And while I accept the risk, it's a little harder to expect a loved one to do the same."

Anna was surprised to hear someone other than a co-worker who _got it_. In fact, she welcomed it. Placing a mug fresh coffee in front of Raylan, she asked, "Cream? Sugar?"

"Sugar, please," he answered.

Anna slid the sugar bowl on the island toward him and said, "You don't need to find another place to stay. Pocket your per diem. Stay here."

_(To be continued . . .)_


	13. Chapter 13

_Chapter 13_

_The Task Force_

Anna and Raylan each showered and dressed. She was surprised to hear he was headed to the federal courthouse, figuring he needed to go to Alexandria. _"The courthouse is a big place. What are the odds?"_ she thought to herself and decided to have him come with her on the Metro, explaining she had a nearby appointment. She knew he didn't buy her career in real estate, but he didn't ask or seem interested. The poor man had other things on his mind.

When they reached their destination, she parted ways with him, giving him a ten minute head start to go through security. Once the coast was clear, she walked into the courthouse and entered a long line. _"Damn, late again,"_ she huffed to herself, glancing at her watch and stuck in the morning security logjam.

Anna finally made it to the conference room with no time to spare. All eyes were on her when she walked in late, interrupting a fellow agent's presentation.

"Agent Rulé," Assistant Director Goodall, said, seated near the back of the room. "How nice for you to grace us with your presence."

Anna looked over and across and suddenly locked eyes with Raylan Givens, seated to Goodall's left. She grimaced and shrugged her shoulders. She was busted. Raylan, on the other hand, had a very satisfied smile on his face. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense to him. And all the while, Karen Goodall watched this exchange take place.

The task force sat through hours of slides, presentations, and replays of key audio conversations over the past several weeks. Raylan was introduced to the team, and Goodall took special care to make sure her pet marshal was brought up to speed.

When they were allowed to take a break for lunch, Raylan sauntered over to Anna. "_Agent_ Rulé," he grinned. "I must say, I never met a Feeb I liked . . . until I met you."

"Raylan," she felt a little flustered. "I don't blow my cover. Not even for you."

"No," he continued to smile. "I get it. And I must say, Adam is to be commended for keepin' your cover a secret."

"Yeah," she shrugged. "He knows how important it is."

"Marshal Givens!" Goodall shouted. "I need to see you. Now!"

"Whew," Anna exhaled. "What a _bitch_," she said under her breath.

"Karen?" Raylan shrugged. "She can be a bit much at times, but she's good at her job. I must say though, she's not herself. I'm tryin' to find out what the hell is goin' on with her."

"You know her personally?" Anna asked?

"In another life," he shrugged. "If ya' know what I mean."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Winona was quiet in the car and Adam didn't attempt conversation, letting her be alone with her thoughts. The route to Louisville from D.C. wound through Maryland farmland before entering the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains in West Virginia. Winona got several texts from her sister during the morning, reporting that their father was stable, but still in Cardiac ICU.

"Are you hungry?" Adam pointed to the exit for Morgantown. "There's not much after this."

Winona shrugged. "I could eat, I guess. And I should feed Willa."

Adam pulled off, but instead of heading for the predictable row of chain restaurants, he drove a bit further. After glancing at his phone when they stopped for a red light, he made a right turn, and in a few moments, they were in the campus area for West Virginia University. A few blocks in, he pulled up to a small café. The sign read _Athena._ "Greek food is good for the soul," he said, giving Winona a smile.

Unfamiliar with Greek cuisine, Winona trusted Adam to order for her while she nursed Willa in the restroom. It wasn't the prospect of nursing in a public place, which she had done discretely a number of times, but nursing in front of Adam that sent her in search of privacy. When she returned to the booth, there was a plate of bread and olive tapenade along with a glass of iced tea waiting for her.

"I ordered you a Greek salad with olives and grilled chicken and some banana and apricots for Willa."

"Thank you. That sounds good," Winona said, sinking into the booth with a sigh. She settled Willa in the baby seat and took a sip of her iced tea. Her phone beeped with a text and she glanced down, anxious for more information from Gayle. But the text was from Raylan.

_Anna is FBI. She's on the task force._

Winona looked up at Adam and chuckled. _LOL. _She typed back. _Now I know you're related._

"What?" Adam asked, confused.

"Anna works for the FBI?" Winona shook her head, laughing again. "Could they _be _any more alike?" They spent the rest of lunch comparing notes on life with a LEO.

"Does Anna always have to sit facing the door whenever you're out anywhere?"

"Yes!" Adam said, nodding in agreement. "And half the time she's scanning the room, looking for God-knows-what instead of enjoying herself."

"I know! And every time I go anywhere, Raylan is always telling me what to watch for and how to be careful."

"It's even more annoying when your girlfriend does it."

"I bet. But she can't help it. It's something they _are_, not just something they _do._"

"Yeah." Adam sipped his tea. "For sure they're related."

"Oh, absolutely. That DNA test is only going to prove what we already know."

After lunch, Adam drove over the speed limit and they didn't stop again until they were just outside of Charleston to stretch their legs and calm a restless Willa. They got to Louisville a little after four in the afternoon and went straight to the hospital.

Winona had texted Gayle, and her sister was waiting to guide them through the labyrinth of corridors to their father's room in ICU.

She raised an eyebrow when she saw Adam. "Did you trade Raylan in on a younger model?"

"This is the guy I was telling you about," Winona said.

"The chef?" Gayle gave him a smile.

Winona nodded. "Among other things. He plays in a band, too. And he could moonlight as a D.C. tour guide or a great nanny. He's wonderful with Willa."

"They call them 'mannys'," Gayle informed her with a smirk. "They're all the rage with the horsey set here in Louisville."

"I just like kids," Adam said.

"Do you have any of your own?"

"Sore subject," Winona informed her sister.

"Why don't I take Willa for a little walk?" Adam suggested. "Give you some time alone with your family. I saw the way she looked at the fountain we passed on the way in, and I bet it's good for four or five minutes of entertainment."

"Do you mind?" Winona asked.

"Not at all."

Winona patted Willa's back. "Mama will be right back, Punkin'. Thanks," she said to Adam.

Adam left with Willa, and Gayle led Winona into their father's tiny room. He was sleeping, and the nurse was writing vitals on the chalkboard which already had _dementia _written on it in red, along with _DNR, _a doctor's name, and Gayle's phone number.

"His blood pressure and pulse are good right now," the nurse said. "He was very lucid this morning, too."

"He's been that way," Gayle said. "It's weird. He's a little confused, but he's only had one bad episode since the heart attack."

"What do the doctors say?"

Gayle paced in the narrow doorway. "Sometimes I think they don't know any more than we do. His heart is only functioning at 15%. They did a cath, and he has 95% blockage in three arteries. Without a bypass, he's in danger of another heart attack which he probably wouldn't survive." She grabbed Winona's hand. "You have to get him to change his mind."

_Why? _Winona thought. Still, she walked to the bed and took her father's hand. "Hey, Daddy, it's Winona."

His eyelids fluttered open and a smile curved the corners of his mouth. "Noni," he said. "How's that little grandbaby of mine?"

"Willa is good." She blinked back the tears. "Maybe we can sneak her in to see you."

"I'd like that." He breathed. "Gayle?"

"She stepped out for a minute."

"Good," her father said. "She's trying to get me to change my mind."

Winona pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat. "I know."

"But I won't. This is a blessing, Noni, a blessing." His eyes closed again, but his hand tightened around hers. He took a deep breath. "I'm not confused. I know what I'm doing."

"But Daddy, if you don't have the surgery..."

"I'm going to die." He opened his eyes and looked up at her. "I may die sooner than I'd like. But I'll die knowing who I am and who you are. I'll die knowing my family is there. I won't be a drooling diaper-wearing zombie who doesn't even recognize his own face in the mirror."

Winona kept hold of her father's hand and didn't try to stop the tears.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Now that you've been briefed this morning, what do you know about the Arndt brothers?" Karen Goodall asked her marshal, after she ordered him away from Anna's earshot.

Raylan was astounded how she could turn the heat on and off, depending on her situation. In front of the task force, it was as if last night never happened. He was fine not to be dealing with that.

"The Arndt's reign of terror in Kentucky was before my time," Raylan recalled. "I'm familiar with the case, but there's been no more trouble outta them since I was assigned to Lexington. Have ya' talked to Art about this?"

"Yeah," she said. "About a week ago. "He said pretty much the same. Regardless, the chatter sounds like Leon Arndt is about to make a move."

"You all must have some idea of what this group is gonna do," Raylan stated, knowing this task force had the suspects under surveillance for almost a month.

Karen smiled. "As you so eloquently say, _'they like to blow shit up.'_ This group also doesn't care much for the well-being of black people."

"Or the Jews or Mexicans . . . the list can go on and on."

"We've kept close tabs on all the distributors of raw materials that could be used to make explosives," she stretched her arms over her head, her muscles cramped from sitting for so long. "Closer tabs than is standard procedure."

Raylan thought for a moment. "There could be another, less obvious way for Arndt to get his hands on explosives. I knew a powder man who worked for the mines," he shared.

"You think Leon Arndt would contact your powder man?"

"Not necessarily. He's not the only powder man in Kentucky. But he used to be in the Aryan Nation. I'll give Art a call. Maybe he could have Tim and Rachel go have a little chat with him and feel him out."

"We need to be careful on this," Goodall insisted. "The last thing we want to do is to tip our hand that the Arndts are under investigation."

"Ya' want me to go to Lexington and do the interview?" he asked. There was nothing he'd like better than to be closer to Winona and Willa.

"No," she smirked. "I want you here . . . where the action is."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Raylan used calling Art as an excuse to step out into the hallway, while Karen headed up the start of the afternoon session.

Art chuckled. "So Karen Goodall recruited you to her task force as punishment. Hell, I guess it could have been worse."

"I don't see how," Raylan complained. "Her bein' amorous in front of Winona was not a pretty sight."

"Why is it that only you get yourself in situations like this?" Art chucked again.

Raylan said, "Winona's father had a heart attack. That's why she was there. It really wasn't funny."

"I'm sorry to hear about her father," Art immediately changed his tone. "If she needs anything while you're in DC, you tell her to call me, you hear?"

"Thanks, Art. I will."

"Did you find your sister?" Art asked, curious.

"You're not gonna believe this," Raylan began. "She's with the FBI. And she just so happens to be on this same task force I was assigned to."

"No shit!" Art exclaimed. "Small world." Then, he chuckled again. "Ha! You might have a Feeb in the family?"

"We'll see," Raylan tried to cut into Art's good time, at his expense. "We sent the DNA test off today. Should hear somethin' soon."

"So, bottom line, Karen wants us to question Boyd Crowder without tipping her hand?" Art put on his Chief hat and got down to business.

"That's right," he said.

"I think I'll have Tim bring Boyd here, to the office, for a little chat," Art said. "I have no interest in going to Harlan."

"Sounds like a plan," Raylan said. He liked the idea of Art handling the questioning himself. Art was a pro, had lots of experience. Not that Tim and Rachel weren't professional and competent. This case was too big for the Lexington office to make mistake.

"Tell Karen not to worry about a thing," Art sounded confident. "I'll call her just as soon as I've met with Crowder."

"Okay," Raylan said. "I'll tell her."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Winona found Gayle staring out the window to the parking lot below, her arms crossed tightly over her body. "Did you talk to him?"

Stepping up beside her, Winona touched her fingers to the glass. "Um hmm."

"Well?"

Winona knew her sister wasn't going to like what she was saying, and she braced herself. "I think we have to let him make this choice." She held her breath.

"I knew you'd see it his way." Gayle kept looking out at the blue Kentucky sky.

"It's his life. He's the one who's going through this, and he seems lucid to me." She slipped an arm around her sister's shoulders. "I don't want to lose him, either," she said. "You know that."

Gayle leaned in, and the two sisters stood like that until Adam returned, carrying a sleeping Willa.

"She passed out about fifteen minutes ago," he told Winona. "How's your dad?"

Winona took the baby, settling her in the carrier perched on the table by the window. "He's stable."

"For now," Gayle added.

Winona gave Adam a sad smile. "I'm sorry you're stuck in the middle of this."

"It's okay, I'm fine," he assured her. "Do you ladies want me to go pick you up something to eat?"

Gayle shook her head. "I really need to go see my boys. Wade was going to pick up something on his way to his mother's to get them. The past two nights I didn't get home until after they were asleep."

"How old are your boys?"

Happy for the distraction, Gayle pulled out her phone and brought up pictures of the boys, showing off. "My oldest, Davis is five. He's named for Daddy. And this is Kyle, he's almost three."

Adam appeared genuinely interested as she scrolled through her photos. Adam appeared genuinely interested as she scrolled through her photos. "This one reminds me of my nephew, Mason," he said, pointing to Davis. "He's six."

"Adam has four sisters," Winona said.

"And eight nieces and two nephews," he offered.

"Wow." Gayle shook her head. "I bet Christmas is wild."

He laughed. "Yep. It is. I love it. Anna, well, she was a little taken aback by it. Her family is a lot smaller. And quieter."

The three of them huddled together talking in the corner of the lounge as Gayle continued to show Adam pictures of the boys. Winona kept one eye on Willa, but the baby was sleeping contentedly. This was late for her nap. She'd need to wake her for some dinner soon, or it would be a long night.

"Excuse me."

Gayle and Winona both turned to face a dark-haired man in blue scrubs. He was younger than either of them. "Dr. Schuler," Gayle said. "This is my sister, Winona."

The doctor held out his hand. "I'm Max Schuler, your father's cardiologist," he said. "I just looked in on your father. Let's have a seat over here."

Adam picked up Willa's carrier and sat on the other side of the room, giving them some privacy.

"I'm very concerned," the doctor said. "I know that Mr. Reeves has decided against surgery, but without it. . ." He sighed. "His heart is weak. I'm already seeing signs of stress on the part that _is _working." Pulling out a file he carried, he glanced down. "I've spoken with your father's doctor and psychologist, and they both agree that with his diagnosis of early onset dementia, it would be appropriate for you to invoke the medical power of attorney." He slid a paper to Gayle. "It's in your name."

Winona stopped breathing. She looked up at her sister, stunned. After the conversation she'd just had with her father, she sat there in disbelief of this turn of events.

_(To be continued . . .)_


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter 14_

_Sister Memories_

"What time have you all been cuttin' outta here?" Raylan asked Anna, standing over her, looking at his watch. It was after 5:00 p.m. "I'm about ready to call it a day."

"Funny," Anna said, looking up from her laptop screen. "The bitch hasn't let us go before 8:00 p.m. and wants us back here at 8:00 a.m. the next morning. Seven days a week."

Raylan smirked at her candor. "I don't know about you, but I say we catch these sons of bitches. The sooner the better for all of us."

"That sounds good to me, but how do you propose we do that?" she asked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. "All we do is wait for them to make a move."

"My boss in Lexington, Chief Deputy Mullen, is workin' an angle in Kentucky. I keep thinkin' there might be a way to kick the hornet's nest and flush the assholes out from under their protected rocks."

Anna cracked a smile. "Yeah, I heard you're really good at that . . . kicking the hornet's nest."

"You been researchin' me?" Raylan asked, taking a seat on the corner of the table.

"I thought it was fair, knowing you had researched me," she countered.

"Touché," he nodded.

Bantering with Anna was a lot like bantering with Winona. She was a smart, witty lady who wasn't going to take any shit off of him. What was different was that with Anna, he didn't have to deal with all the sexual tension and compromise for the sake of feelings that he had to deal with in an intimate relationship. He kind of liked it.

Speaking of sexual tension, he looked over his shoulder to see where Karen was.

"Look, seein' how we might be related, can you keep a confidence?" he asked Anna, his voice hushed.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Would ya' play wing man for me? I had an uncomfortable scene with Karen last night at dinner that I don't want repeated. Could we make like we have plans for tonight so I have an easy out?"

"Raylan," Anna smiled. "I already assured Winona before she left that I'd keep an eye on that bitch. I just didn't know which bitch she was."

"Ya' did?" Raylan was surprised.

"Sure. With all that Winona's got going on, the last thing she needs to be worrying about is her man while she's gone. I'm just relieved to hear that I'll have your back, as well as hers."

"Thanks?" he said, as it sounded like a backhanded compliment.

"No problem," she said. "Although I'm afraid it's back to eating out again. Our chef is in Kentucky," she lamented. "I'm a creature of habit and eat at this Mediterranean place called Pappas. The place is clean, the food is good, and they're open late. Price is right, too."

"I'm sure I could find somethin' there," Raylan nodded and then, changed the subject. "Are ya' writin' up reports?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "We all are," she pointed out the others who were banging on their keyboards. "Don't you have to turn in a daily report?"

Karen hadn't mentioned anything about that, and Raylan coolly shook his head. "I'm not turnin' in a daily report. If Karen wants my advice on how to reel in these assholes, she's welcome to it. But other than that?" He crossed his hands in front of him indicating _'no dice.'_ Restless and tired from waking up so early, Raylan finally said, "Let me see if I can get us sprung at a reasonable hour."

With his Stetson on signaling he was ready to go, he sauntered to the back of the conference room and up to Karen. "Could I have a word?"

There were agents nearby, so the two made their way out into the hallway for privacy.

"Art's bringin' my powder guy in for questionin'," he informed her. "He recognizes the delicacy of the situation, so he'll do the questionin' himself."

"That's good," Karen nodded. "What say you and me go and grab a bit to eat?" She hit him playfully on the leg with a portfolio she had in her hand.

Raylan had known Karen for a long time as a pragmatic sensible woman, especially where her personal life was concerned, and her bold attempt at seduction the night before had genuinely surprised him. After sleeping on it, he decided a direct approach was best.

"Karen? What's goin' on with you?" he leaned against the wall. "I've known ya' for a long time, and I don't know who that was last night."

The Assistant Director looked chagrined and let out a weak smile. "I don't want to talk about it here."

"To answer your question? I been up since 4 a.m.," he said. "We gotta little one at home who's not always so good at sleepin' through the night. The only place I'm goin' tonight is back to Anna's to get some sleep."

She looked in his eyes. They were older than she remembered and tired. He was telling her the truth.

"What you have?" she began, looking away from those eyes. "That baby who keeps you up at night? That's what I want."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Time's running out for me," she said. "If it hasn't already. I thought I could just put it off and do it later. And now? It's all becoming so final."

"Like I told ya' last night," he said. "You could have any guy ya' want. So, what was that hard come on all about?"

"Honestly?" Karen looked down. "I thought maybe, if I got you drunk enough last night, we could do what we used to do, only I wouldn't use any protection."

He looked at her in astonishment.

"Circumstances brought you here to me. I saw you. I knew I was ovulating yesterday. And the day before," she tried to explain what she had done. "I'm sorry, Raylan. You're a good man. And we've always gotten along. I just thought . . . if I wanted a baby . . ."

"What? That I owed you one?" he asked. It sounded even more incredulous when he said it. "You thought it would be okay to just make me a father against my will?" He shook his head.

"So, this baby with Winona was planned?"

Uncomfortable, Raylan shifted on his feet. "Not exactly, but Winona and I were together. It wasn't just a one night fling." He sighed, seeing that Karen really was regretting this entire thing. At least she was being honest with him.

"Look, I'm flattered and all, but that is _not_ gonna happen. There was a time when I might have considered it with you, but those days are long gone. I told you, I'm in love with Winona, and we have a child. I've been a fool not to marry her again . . . if she'd have me." He let out another tired sigh. "That said, you know I'm always pullin' for ya'." Shifting his weight again, onto his other foot, he offered, "Karen, I hear about your career and the advancements you've made in this 'Good Ol' Boys Club.' I know it's not been easy, and I'm proud to know ya'. I wish ya' nothin' but the best."

Karen looked up at him, sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Raylan. And I'm embarrassed. And you're right. I haven't been myself. I've been a crazy, hormonal woman whose biological clock is ticking past my expiration date."

A long pause of heavy, awkward silence passed between them.

"Do ya' think you'd consider lettin' me outta this task force?" he asked, breaking the silence. "I need to be in Kentucky with Winona and the baby. Her father is in bad shape, and I should be there."

Karen shook her head. "You're not going anywhere. Not yet. You're my _'hillbilly whisperer,"_ she said, sounding like the Assistant Director. "But I tell you what. Why don't you and your _'maybe sister_' go home and see if you can come up with a way to get these suspects off the dime. You do that for me? I'll send you back to Kentucky so fast, it will make your head spin."

Raylan smiled. "You got yourself a deal."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"What're you doing?" Winona wrapped the robe tighter around her and sat on the couch next to Gayle, bumping her with her hip. "Scoot. Are those family pictures?"

Gayle lay the book open across both their laps. "Remember the summer we spent at the lake? That guy who owned the dealership lent us his house."

Winona nodded, turning a page. "That house was gorgeous . . . all that wood and glass."

"All Mama could talk about was how long it would take to clean all those windows," Gayle said. The sisters laughed.

Looking at a photograph of a huge tree leaning out over the water, Winona said. "I loved that tire swing."

"Yeah," Gayle laughed. "After Daddy convinced you to get on it. Then, you wouldn't stop swinging out over the water and jumping in."

"All you did was sit on the porch and read."

"Judy Blume, _Forever," _Gayle said, remembering. "I read that book, like, nine times."

"And you had a crush on that tall skinny boy who helped at the boat dock. What was his name?"

"Robby? No. Randy."

"That's it," Winona said. "My God, look at those awful shorts Dad's wearing!"

"Didn't we get him those for Father's Day?"

"Oh, I think you're right." Winona turned a page, the pictures blurring. She swiped at her eyes with a hand. "What are you going to do?" she asked, her voice soft.

"I talked to Mom earlier," Gayle said.

Winona sucked in a breath and waited.

"I'm not going to step in. This is what Daddy wants. He seems to be lucid, more than he has been for quite a while. I'm going to talk to his regular doctor in the morning, and if she agrees..." she held up her hands. "What would you think about calling hospice?"

"I've heard they're wonderful."

Gayle looked around the small sitting room. "I'm thinking about bringing him back here. It would be easier on me, really, and the boys adore him. If you can stay..."

"I can stay."

"Alright, then." Gayle pushed to her feet. "We can make all the arrangements in the morning." She yawned. "Maybe now we can both get some sleep."

Willa's wail from the spare bedroom cut through the silence, and Winona gave her sister a tired smile. "Well, one of us, anyway."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

At Anna's place over a take-out meal from Pappas, Raylan told her the story of Boyd Crowder. "So, that's who my Chief is gonna question," he said, in between bites of his shish kebob and basmati rice.

Anna was grazing through her mazza platter. "Do you have something you could hold over Boyd's head? To get him to cooperate?"

"His fiancée is in jail," Raylan answered. "In the spirit of full disclosure, I dated her at one time. She's in jail for murderin' a man. This is the second man she's killed . . . that I know of."

"Nice bunch of people you have there, in Harlan," Anna raised an eyebrow, ripping a piece of pitta bread into pieces to dip into the hummus. She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. "I guess I'm really not in a position to judge."

She laughed, and something in the way her eyes crinkled at the corners reminded Raylan of his Mama. He swallowed. "Oh yeah," he said, lightly. "Why not?"

Seated on the floor, Anna settled back against the couch and brought her wine glass to her lips. "My romantic past isn't all roses either. My first husband, Emile Rulé, was something like your friend Boyd."

Raylan raised an eyebrow. "Do tell." He poured more bourbon into his glass and took a sip.

"They called Emile 'the Ragin' Cajun'," she said. "He had played football for LSU. Had the potential to go pro until he blew out his knee in the Cotton Bowl. He played on his name-recognition in New Orleans and bought into a bar. It wasn't on Bourbon Street, but it was still in the French Quarter – well located for the tourists. He tended bar there, signed autographs for the die-hards."

"You got a thing for bartenders?" Raylan chuckled.

Anna smiled and shook her head. "I didn't meet him at the bar. I met him at a Police Athletic League event. Mom had some school function that night, so I went with Dad. Just like in the movies. . ." she blushed and took another gulp of wine. "We saw each other across a crowded room and that was it. We were married three months later."

"So far, it sounds like a fairytale," Raylan said.

"No happily ever after, I'm afraid." Anna splashed more wine into her glass. "Emile turned out to be a high stakes gambler on a roll. When things went south, about a year after we were married, he ended up over his head with some very nasty people. They started using his bar as a front for their operation, all with the knowledge . . . and for all purposes permission . . . of the New Orleans Police Department."

Things began to come together in Raylan's mind. "So, when they busted the gambling organization, the crooked cops came down with it?" 

"After Katrina the whole place was under a state and federal microscope," Anna said.

"And your father?"

"In it up to his eyeballs." She reached for Raylan's empty plate, and he followed her to the kitchen.

"So, that explains it."

She stooped to put the dishes in the dishwasher, remembering what her mother had told her. "I know Daddy told you I was dead. I'm sorry about that." She shrugged a shoulder. "What can I say? The man holds a grudge."

Leaning against the counter, Raylan crossed his arms over his chest. "Was he a good father?"

Anna looked at him quizzically. "He was a crooked cop."

Raylan raised an eyebrow. "He beat you?"

"No!" Anna said. "Never."

"Cheat on your mother?"

She shook her head.

"Sounds to me like he may have been a lousy cop, but he was a pretty good father," he concluded.

Anna raised her eyebrow. "How do you figure that?"

"I 'spose it's all relative." Raylan leaned further on his forearms. "Take my old man, for instance. He was a lousy provider _and_ a lousy father. He beat me and my mother. And he cheated on her, more than once."

Anna looked away. "_If_ I am your half-sister, wouldn't your . . . our . . . mother have cheated on your father, too?"

Raylan let out a long sigh. "I can see why you might think that. If my . . . our . . . mother cheated on Arlo? It was a one-time thing, and I can see why she did it. Arlo spent a lot of time in and out of prison for penny ante shit. He left mom alone to raise me and pay the mortgage and the bills. Without Mama's sister, my Aunt Helen, we woulda starved. And I can tell ya' that nothin' my mother and I ever did warranted a beatin' at his hand."

Anna nodded in agreement. "You sound like there was no love lost between you and your father."

"Nope. He died in prison within this past year," Raylan said. "That's how I came into possession of the family bible which led me to you."

Anna gave a week smile. "And here we are, waiting for the results of DNA testing and working on the same task force."

Raylan returned the smile and repeated, "Here we are."

Anna walked toward the middle of the island and slapped a legal pad on the counter. "I suppose we should get working on our case and get you to Kentucky."

"Yeah, and Adam back home to you."

The two worked until late in the night, coming up with an idea they would run by Karen Goodall in the morning and then, by Art.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Sorry for callin' so late," Raylan said. He was sitting on the bed in Anna's guest room, long legs stretched out in front of him. "How's your father?" He stifled a yawn waiting for Winona to answer.

"He's stable." She filled him in on Gayle's decision to call in hospice.

"Sounds like that's what he wants." Still, he knew that this was painful. "You okay?"

"You know," she said. "I am. I was so worried that she was going to invoke the medical power of attorney and force Daddy to have the surgery. I just want him to be able to go out his way." Willa whined, and Winona soothed her with a whisper.

"She fussy?"

"I think she misses her Daddy," Winona said. "So do I."

He heard the unspoken question. "Hopefully, I can be there soon. Anna and I are gonna run somethin' by the task force tomorrow. But if ya' need anything, Art says to give him a call."

"Thanks."

"Adam stayin' there, too?"

"He insisted on getting a hotel room. I told him he could head back, but he's going to do the Bourbon Trail tomorrow and stick around another day or two in case we need anything. Gayle's mother-in-law is coming to the house to watch the kids."

"She'll have her hands full with those boys and Willa."

"I said as much to Gayle and she just rolled her eyes. Roberta, that's Wade's mother, was a kindergarten teacher."

"Oh," Raylan chuckled. "I suppose that more than qualifies her."

"Besides, you know I won't be able to leave her for very long." Winona bit her lip and twisted a strand of hair around a finger. "So, you really think you'll be here soon?"

"That's the plan." Another yawn slipped out before he could stop it.

"I'd better let you go," she said. "Get some sleep, Cowboy."

"You, too."

"Love you."

"Back atcha. G'night. Kiss Miss Willa for me."

Winona pressed her lips to the baby's head. "Done."

_(To be continued . . .)_


	15. Chapter 15

_Chapter 15_

_Waiting_

"Leon Arndt," Art's voice bellowed inside the glass conference room.

Boyd Crowder leaned forward with his forearms on the conference table, across from Chief Deputy Art Mullen and Deputy Marshal Tim Gutterson. Being there clearly wasn't Boyd's idea.

"What about him?"

"Don't be a wise guy, Crowder." Art's steely eyes bored into the man he'd been after for years. "What do you know about him, and when's the last time you saw him?"

"I'll answer your second question, first," Boyd craftily responded. "I've never seen the man. As far as who is he? Most folks from around here know he's a neo-Nazi."

"And so are you," Art snapped back.

"You mean _was_," Boyd corrected the Chief. "I turned over a new leaf."

"After finding God," Tim interjected. "We well remember that bullshit."

"It wasn't bullshit. I had found God . . . at the time," Boyd glared at the younger marshal. He abruptly changed the subject. "Where's Raylan?"

"He's in D.C.," Art announced. "Visiting our nation's capital."

"How nice for him," Boyd said, raising an eyebrow. "I hear the cherry blossoms are in full bloom."

Tim snickered. "It's not nice if you're allergic to them or whatever else is blooming around there." Tim had heard from Raylan when he was wheezing.

"Look, while I always enjoy the company of the marshals, I have things that need attendin' to back at my bar. So, if you all will excuse me." Boyd began to stand.

"Not so fast," Tim lowered the boom.

"Sit down. We want you to do something for us," Art added.

"And why would I do that?" Boyd asked.

Art crossed his arms across his barrel chest. "Because we don't think Ava Crowder murdered Delroy all by herself."

"Who said anything about Ava murderin' anybody?" Boyd shrugged. Ava pleaded innocent and had not yet gone to trial. "What happened to bein' innocent until proven guilty?"

"C'mon," Tim said. "She was caught disposing of a corpse. A badly decomposed corpse."

"Who has in fact been identified as one Delroy Baker," Art informed Boyd of the forensics.

"And who once ran the whorehouse you now find yourself in possession of," Tim added.

"A case could be made," Art said, tapping on the files stacked on the table. "Considerin' your extensive record of underhanded dealings and such, that either the two of you killed old Delroy together to take over his business, or you killed him and all Ava was doin' was cleanin' up after you."

"If I had killed him," Boyd said, never breaking his gaze on the two marshals. "There wouldn't have been a body to dispose of."

Art stood tall, chest puffed and towering over a seated Boyd. With his hands squared on his hips and his face reddened with frustration, Art huffed, "There's conspiracy to murder written all over this one, Boyd. And let me remind you that you and your fiancée are not yet man and wife. Ava can testify against you to avoid prison time. Because the truth is? We're not after a little fish like Ava. We're after a big fish . . . like you."

Boyd, who was usually quick with the comebacks fell silent for a moment to gather his thoughts. He finally spoke, "So, I take it you'd be less interested in me if I'd cooperate and help you get an even bigger fish like Arndt?"

Art, still standing with hands on hips, glared down at the slippery little man before him. "Now, you're gettin' the picture."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Thank you." Davis Reeves looked up at his daughters. "I know this can't be easy for you. I was afraid. . ." He wiped a tear away and the breath shuddered out of him. "I wish I could go home."

"I'm sorry about that, Daddy," Gayle said. "You know we sold the house, remember?"

He shook his head. "I don't." His eyes met hers. "But I know you're telling me the truth. Do I have to go back to that other place?" He glanced around the hospital room. "It's better than here, but not by much."

Winona took a step closer to the bed. "We're going to take you back to Gayle's. She's getting everything all ready for you in the little sunroom at the back. You can see the backyard from the big windows. It's a pretty view."

"You'll be able to watch the boys play."

Their father's eyes settled on Gayle. "You sure you want this happening in your house?"

"Yes, I do," she assured him. "You'll be with us. Right where you belong. And Winona is going to stay, too."

"What about that husband of yours? Gary?"

"Raylan, Daddy." Winona smiled. "He's working in Washington D.C. right now, but he'll be here soon."

An older woman, tall, with silvery blonde hair, came in carrying a clipboard. She was dressed in a plaid blouse and khaki slacks. She held out a hand to Winona. "Hi, I'm Tracy Weston, from hospice. I'm here to see Davis Reeves."

"This is my father, Davis," Winona said. "And my sister, Gayle."

"I think we talked on the phone," Tracy said to Gayle with a smile. "It's nice to meet you in person." She motioned to the chairs, pulling one closer to the bed. "Why don't we sit down? I want to make sure we all understand the goals of hospice care."

Gayle pulled the other chairs over and we huddled together near Dad's bed.

"To enter hospice care, a patient has a life-expectancy of six months or less," Tracy said. "Our goal is to make that time as pain-free as possible, and keep the patient as alert and active as possible. Everyone follow?"

We nodded.

"By active and alert, you mean I can go and do what I want?"

"Absolutely," Tracy said. "Whatever you're able to do, you can do."

"Davis has some ball games next week," Gayle said. "Would you like to go?"

"I'm Davis," he said, then shook his head. "I know. Davis is my grandson. He plays baseball?"

"Yes," Gayle said. "Coach pitch. They won their game last night. They have another one on Saturday. Maybe you'll be out of here by then."

"Since Mr. Reeves isn't going to have any further treatment for his heart condition, we can discuss discharge with the doctor," Tracy said. "When you go home, hospice would visit daily, or as needed. We would make sure that you aren't in any pain, and that you're as comfortable as possible." She turned to Gayle. "We can also help to get any equipment you might need. A hospital bed, wheelchair, that kind of thing."

"I don't need a wheelchair," Davis Reeves insisted. "I can walk. I just need to go slow."

Gayle and Winona shared a glance, this was the stubborn father they remembered.

"Okay, Daddy," Winona said. "Whatever you say."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"So, what did you do all day?" Anna opened the fridge and peered inside, disappointed at the lack of snack-worthy food. Armed with her directions and a map on his phone, Raylan had walked down the block to pick up the Thai take-out they'd ordered for dinner, but she was hungry now. She sighed and grabbed a beer, popping off the cap and hopping up onto the counter to sit.

'I got about half of the way through the Bourbon Trail," Adam said. "I have Maker's Mark, Wild Turkey and Woodford to go."

"I'm a little surprised you're not hanging out more with Winona," she said, taking another sip. She made her way to the island and took a seat on the barstool. "You two seemed to hit it off so well. Did you have a little too much togetherness on the drive out there?"

"No," he quickly answered. "Nothing like that. It's a somber vibe here. I knew what they were going to be dealing with, that's why I offered to stay at a motel. Besides, her sister, Gayle changes up the mix."

"Oh?" Anna wanted more detail but wouldn't push it.

"I don't know," Adam continued. "There's nothing to do at the motel, but I feel like a third wheel here. That and, it's like everyone in the house is on death-watch. You know, the father came home today with hospice, here, at their house. It feels like it's a private thing, and I shouldn't be here." After a beat of silence, he broke it. "I offered to cook for everyone. It's what I do. But Gayle won't have it. She says I'm a guest, and she doesn't want to put me out. Put _me_ out? Doesn't that beat all?"

"She doesn't know you, babe," Anna offered.

"After I finish the bourbon tour, I think I'll have seen just about all Kentucky has to offer. I'm stayin' in the cheapest decent motel I could find, but still."

This call was taking a while longer than anticipated. Anna switched to her headset and got herself another beer.

"Everyone is so _'polite'_ with me, yet with a bit of insincerity. They don't need me to watch Willa," he went on and on. "I know they're just trying to get through this. It's not about me. When do you think you'll be here?" Adam would have been planning to drive back to D.C., had Raylan not told Winona about his impending trip to Kentucky.

"Don't know," Anna answered. "Raylan's pushing hard to go, as hard as he can. And he's pushing for me to come with him." She took a long pull on the beer. "I know it's tough, but will you be okay there by yourself for another day or so? You could move into a nicer hotel with a workout room. I'll be on a per diem, and we would definitely stay in a hotel. And if it turns out I'm not coming, you can head home."

"Another day or so, huh?" he sighed. "Well, it's not like there's much of a choice. And it was my idea to drive Winona out here in the first place. I'm not sorry I did."

"I know Raylan really appreciates it," she shared. "He's like a caged animal since she left. He wants to go home. Actually, I think he's feeling a lot like you these days."

"How's the bitch?" Adam asked, changing the subject. "Is she keeping her paws off of Raylan?"

Anna chucked. "Yeah. She's changed her tune . . . a little. Not in the bad hours we're keeping, but she's a little more respectful towards the both of us, thanks to Raylan. I'll take it. And you can tell Winona to rest easy. I'm keeping an eye on her."

"Are you getting to know Raylan better?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "He can be a chatter box, at times. Again, he's restless. I hate to burst Winona's bubble, but he does not belong in Washington. Or at Glynco, in my opinion. He seems like the type who needs to be out there. On the move. In the field."

"Like you?" Adam chuckled. "I mean, that does sound a lot like you."

"Yeah," she laughed. "Like me. I admit it. I'm starting to see it. I'm feeling a kinship with the guy. I _'get'_ him."

"When will you hear back from the lab?" he asked out of curiosity.

She adjusted her earpiece. "You read the instructions. I think it will be after the weekend. They must have received it . . . today?"

"I guess so. Sorry. As much as I want to know, no one wants to know more than you and Raylan," he apologized.

"It's okay," she said. "You're in this with me."

"I am?" he teased. "I like the sound of that."

"Well, I'm kind of stuck on you," she offered. "And I miss you. And I want to ravage your body when I see you again," she teased.

"Oh, I love it when you talk like that," he said in a low voice. The walls were too thin. "Please hurry. Get a decision. I miss you, too."

"I will," she said, hearing Raylan coming through the front door. "I love you." It was clear from her tone she was ending the call.

"I love you, too," Adam said.

And they disconnected.

"Was that Adam?" Raylan asked, carrying bags of food with a wonderful aroma. He placed them on the island.

"Yeah," Anna said. She stood up and walked around the island, gathering up plates and napkins. "I'm grabbing another beer. Want one?"

"Oh, yes," Raylan grinned, showed his appreciation.

"Adam says it's pretty heavy over at Winona's sister's house. Gayle? Is that her name?" she said, handing him a bottle.

"Yeah. Gayle's a proper older sister. She's alright," he replied, screwing off the bottle cap. "She didn't like me too much . . . at first. I've had to grow on her. Took a while."

"That's pretty much how Adam described her. But he cuts her a lot of slack. I mean, she losing her father."

"Pretty grim?" he asked, taking a long pull.

"You know it is," she answered. She passed the box of pad Thai over to Raylan, as she spooned out some of the basil chicken onto hers. Then, she moved to the salad rolls. "Would you like one?"

"Sure," Raylan said.

Anna placed two of the rolls onto his plate, along with a small container of peanut sauce and sweet chili sauce.

"Chopsticks?" she asked.

"I'd rather have a fork if ya' don't mind."

Not surprised, as Thai food was not Raylan's usual fare, she reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a place setting and passed it to him. Before she sat down, she noticed Raylan's beer was almost gone.

"Hey, I'm ahead of you. Would you like another?" she asked, standing by the open fridge.

"Bless ya'," he nodded.

She joined him at the island, passed him the bottle, and pulled up the stool right beside him.

"I was gonna call Winona, but it's late," he glanced at the clock. "I don't wanna wake Willa. She texted me several times today."

"Thank God, the bitch hasn't confiscated our cell phones," Anna said, screwing of the top of her second bottle. "Can you believe she actually did that the first week of the task force? She wouldn't allow any personal interruptions. She can be quite the ball buster."

"Karen overplays it, sometimes," he nodded, pouring peanut sauce over his rolls before taking a bite. "Hmmmmm. Not bad," he said, after he swallowed. There was grilled chicken in the rolls.

"Yeah, this place makes their own sauces. These things can be addictive."

"Back to Karen," he said. "She's playin' in a man's world. I mean, things have changed over the years with women being promoted into the top jobs, but let's face it. It's still a Boy's Club. She just wants to be taken seriously."

"Well, if you ask me, she doesn't need to try so hard." She glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow, as she pulled apart her chopsticks. "We're all professionals. She'd get more mileage if she . . ."

"Became more human?" Raylan asked. "I agree. She struggles with it."

"You really are friends with her," she observed.

"I know her," he corrected her observation. "And she knows me. I will tell ya' this. If I was in a gunfight, I know she'd have my back. And she'd have yours, too."

"Wow," Anna said, dipping her roll into the sauce. "You couldn't give her a higher recommendation than that."

"Not when it comes right down to it. In law enforcement, that's really all that matters." Raylan was starving, too, and dug into the pad Thai. "I talked to Art while I was walkin' to pick up the food. Boyd's agreed to wear a wire and set up a meetin' with Arndt. But Boyd's insistin' that I be there."

"Since when does a criminal dictate the terms of an investigation?"

"Since Boyd don't trust the Marshals Service. Not that he trusts me that much, but Boyd thinks he can look me in the eye and tell if I'm tellin' the truth. I guess there is somethin' to that. I get a feel when someone is tellin' me the truth or not. Don't you?"

"Oh sure," she answered, taking a sip of her beer. "I guess in the line of work we're in, you develop some skills."

"And in Boyd's line of work, I guess he figures the same. Boyd likes to say that what he does, and what I do? We're just two faces of the same coin."

"Huh?" she asked, not getting it.

"I think what he really means is that he and I come from the same place, and we're really not that different," Raylan joined her in sipping the beers.

"Well, of course you're different," she said. "You're on the right side of the law."

Raylan chuckled. "You and I know that. It's just some of Boyd's bullshit. Anyway, I say . . . I update Karen first thing in the mornin'. She can confirm it all with Art. And since this is a federal crime we're talkin' about . . . I think it would be in Karen's best interest if she let me bring ya' in on this part of the investigation."

"Here's to convincing her we both need to go," she raised her beer bottle for a toast, to which Raylan complied.

"How's Adam hangin' in?" Raylan sensed some strife after that phone call.

"He's on the Bourbon Trail," she offered.

Raylan sighed. "I wish I was on that Trail, right now."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Winona found Adam in Wade's study, glancing at the books lining the shelves.

"Willa's finally down," she said and looked up at him. "How are you doing? I haven't seen you all day."

He leaned on the edge of the desk. "I just talked to Anna. They'll know in a day or so what is going on. Whether they're coming out or not. Whether she is coming at all. I could go back to the motel, but I wanted to be here in case you needed anything. But it's kind of uncomfortable. I feel like I'm in the way instead of helping."

Winona looked down. "I know how you feel." Keeping her voice down, she continued. "I love my sister, but this is _her_ house. And she's taking on a lot bringing Daddy back here. He can be a handful. But yeah. You don't have to explain it to me. Honestly? I can't wait for Raylan to get here. Willa and I'll be moving into his hotel room too." She sighed. "This situation with Daddy is hard. But it would be easier on me if I had my own space, too."

"I miss my kitchen," Adam shared.

It dawned on Winona that Adam had not been given 'kitchen privileges.' She had been too busy with her father to notice. "Let me talk to my sister before I go to bed. And why don't you plan on fixing everyone dinner tomorrow night. Just keep in mind that there are two little boys who like their pizza and mac and cheese." She smiled, knowing he just wanted to be useful.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," he said. "You and your sister have enough on your minds."

"Hey, we have to eat," she sat beside him on the edge of the desk. "And honestly? Gayle's cooking is for the birds."

"Yeah?" he smiled.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I want you to know I appreciate you being here. This waiting. Waiting for daddy. Waiting for Raylan."

"Waiting for that DNA test," Adam interjected.

"That, too. It's not easy," she said. "I'm just glad we don't have to do it alone."

"Good." Adam shifted back onto his feet. "If you don't need me tonight, I think I will head back to the motel. There's a movie theater right next door that's showing the film that won Sundance. I'd like to see it, and Anna won't go near a movie without car chases and gunfights."

Winona chuckled. "Another thing our significant others have in common." She gave him a hug. "I'll see you in the morning?"

"Sounds good," he said, feeling a little better.

_(To be continued . . .)_


	16. Chapter 16

_Chapter 16_

_Coming Home_

"Read it again, Grandpa!" Davis insisted. He leaned into his grandfather, tucked in beside him in the recliner.

The older man ruffled the boy's hair with a broad hand. It had been a good day. He'd felt well and his memory had been fairly clear. They'd all sat out on the patio for most of the afternoon, watching Davis and Kyle play on the swings and splash in the plastic pool. Willa had joined in for a little supervised water play, and it had worn her out. It was almost six and she was still napping.

"Maybe Grandpa would like to rest before dinner," Gayle said.

"I'm fine," the elder Davis said to his daughter. "This _Pete the Cat_ is pretty funny."

Davis beamed up at him. "It's my favorite!"

"He makes Wade or I read it every night," Gayle laughed.

"Well, tonight it's Grandpa's turn." He opened the book, prepared to start again when Winona walked out of the kitchen, a glass of red wine in her hand.

"Everything's almost ready," she said.

"What is that?" her father asked.

"This?" She held up the glass and he nodded. "It's a Pinot Noir. We're having spaghetti."

"I'll take a glass." He smiled up at her, and she glanced at Gayle who shook her head.

"Gayle," their father said. "I can have a glass of wine if I want. And I want."

"What harm can it do?" Winona asked.

Gayle raised her hands in a gesture of surrender.

A few minutes later, Adam emerged from the kitchen and announced that everything was ready. "Grab a plate and follow me."

Davis was first in line. He loaded his plate with noodles, then glanced skeptically at the pots bubbling on the stove. "This one is clam sauce," Adam said. "It's got lots of garlic. That's for the grown-ups. This one here," he scooped up some rich red sauce to show the boy. "Is meat sauce like you're used to eating. There are meatballs in it, too." He took the plate. "Or, you can just have butter if you want."

"Butter," Davis said. He took a spoonful of salad at his mother's insistence and walked back into the dining room, balancing his plate carefully.

"Meeeatball." screeched Kyle. "Me want meatball."

"Okay, buddy." He put a small scoop of sauce and a meatball on top of the noodles on the younger boy's plate.

Kyle's eyes slid up to Adam's. "No salad."

Winona stooped down. "I'll eat yours," she said, conspiratorially. She took the boy's plate. "Let me carry it for you." She put noodles and a little of each sauce on her own plate, along with some salad and a thick slice of garlic bread. "This all looks wonderful." She smiled at Adam.

"It does," Gayle added. "I was a fool not to let you cook last night, too. How do you do it?"

"The sauces are simple," Adam said. "I'd be happy to leave you the recipes."

"Please, do," Wade chimed in. His comment earned him an elbow in the ribs from his wife. He smooched her cheek. "You have lots of talents, Babe, but cooking isn't one of them."

Gayle laughed, and the lightheartedness continued into the meal. Davis even got his namesake to try some sauce, surprisingly; the boy preferred the garlicky clam sauce.

"What are these chewy things?" he asked Adam.

Adam chuckled. "Those are clams. They live in the ocean. You have to break open their shells to get the meat out."

He gnawed and swallowed. "I like them."

Gayle shook her head. "He doesn't like anything," she whispered to Adam. "He's the pickiest eater I've ever seen."

"Well, now you have one more thing he'll eat." He twirled some pasta around his fork. "I was a picky eater, too."

"So was this one," Davis gestured at Winona with his fork. "I swear for a solid year that girl ate nothing but applesauce, grilled cheese sandwiches, and hot dogs."

"For breakfast?" Adam asked. 

"Three meals a day." Davis nodded. "At least she was drinking milk."

"Grapes," Winona added. "I liked those green grapes, too."

"Every once in a while, Margie or I would put our foot down and make her eat what we were eating and oh . . . the fits she would throw." He laughed and started coughing.

"Are you alright, Dad?"

He gasped for a moment, and nodded, then coughed some more. Pushing away from the table he tried to stand but tipped precariously to one side.

The two little boys stared, eyes wide.

Wade and Adam quickly jumped up, each taking an arm. Davis shook his head. "I'm fine." He choked out. He sucked in air and leaned heavily on his son-in-law. "Maybe I could lie down for a bit."

Winona met her sister's eyes as the younger men helped him out of the dining room, and Gayle picked up her father's wine glass and finished its contents in one swallow.

"Is Grandpa going to die now?" Davis asked, his voice quiet.

Wade and Gayle had explained as best they could what was happening, answering his questions in what they hoped were age-appropriate ways. Gayle stared at her son, and Winona jumped in.

"Not right now, no." She reached over and brushed the boy's bangs out of his eyes.

"But he is going to die, isn't he?"

"Yes," Gayle said. She pushed her plate away, her appetite gone.

"And we'll be sad." Davis nodded seriously. "But Grandpa won't be sad."

Winona cocked her head at him. "What do you mean?"

"He'll be in Heaven," Davis said, matter-of-factly. He took a forkful of spaghetti. "No one is sad in Heaven."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

On the Metro the next morning, Raylan's cell phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then gave Anna a raised eyebrow. "Hello, Boyd," he said upon answering, letting Anna know who was calling.

"Good mornin' Raylan. I hear you are playin' tourist in our Nation's capital. I'd imagine it's quite renewing to the American spirit to be so close to so much history, in the place where the decisions are made."

"Yeah, I'm feelin' real patriotic, but I don't think that's why you called."

"Well, now, you always did like to get to the point." Boyd chuckled. "I 'spose you know that I was picked up at my bar by that sniper of yours – the one who shot Colton – and taken to Lexington to be grilled by the boss himself, Chief Marshal Mullen."

"I'm aware."

Another chuckle. "I imagine you are. Don't suppose you had anything to do with that?"

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips. "Why're you callin', Boyd?"

The other man took his time answering. "When Chief Mullen brought up Leon Arndt, I didn't remember at first, but last night, when I was tossin' and turnin' I recalled something that might be important."

"Go on."

"_We're the next stop," _Anna whispered, moving toward the door. Raylan followed.

"Arndt has a history with someone you know."

"Besides you, you mean." Raylan gave a snort and grabbed at the overhead strap as the train lurched to a halt.

"I've never met the man," Boyd said, followed by a pause. "But Elstin Limehouse has."

Raylan stopped in his tracks, almost missing the slim window of time to follow Anna out the doors. Several commuters glared as they stepped around him, one even giving him a rude hand gesture. Anna tugged at his arm, pulling him out of the flow of foot traffic.

"How does Elstin Limehouse know a Neo-Nazi white supremacist?"

"Raylan, let me give you a history lesson. Once upon a time . . ."

"Boyd," Raylan interrupted, sick of the bullshit. "Just the facts."

A breath of air came over the line as Boyd sighed heavily. "Arndt's daddy went to prison for a bungled robbery at a bank in Somerset in which a man was unfortunately killed. The man who identified Eugene Arndt as the shooter and testified against him was Elstin's father, Nelson Limehouse."

"So, Leon's racism is because the testimony of a black man sent his daddy to prison?"

"Where another black man ended his life with a shiv in the neck," Boyd said. "Leon would've been about twelve at the time. That's an impressionable age for a boy."

When Anna and Raylan reached the courthouse, he motioned for her to go ahead and enter the Security line without him. "Boyd, you'd better not be feedin' me a line of shit."

"I'm not." After a beat, Boyd added, "See what you missed when you moved away for all those years?"

"Look, I gotta go. I needed to be somewhere . . . five minutes ago." Raylan was past ready to wrap up this conversation.

"But before you do, are you gonna to tell your boss what I had to say . . . or do I have to tell him, myself?"

"What? You don't like Art?"

"Oh, I like the Chief Deputy just fine. But I don't think he's too fond of me."

"He's not," Raylan confirmed. After an uncomfortable pause, he continued, "I'll call him. Alright?"

"Good." Boyd's tone remained its usual, level of calm. "Can I expect your arrival back to The Blue Grass State, soon?"

"I'm workin' on it," Raylan answered and then, abruptly disconnected the call.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

In the conference room that Raylan had grown to hate, he and Assistant Director Karen Goodall were holed up in an office off to the side, on a confidential conference call with Art.

"Boyd? He's a squirrelly one," Art lamented. "As much as I'd like to tell you that we can handle him, Karen, and we can, truth is . . . Raylan could probably get this contact with Boyd and Arndt done much faster. And Limehouse? What can I say? These folks in Harlan are Raylan's people. He has a way with them that Tim and Rachel and I don't have."

"Understood," Goodall acknowledged. "Art, you know it's all about money. I'll get back to you."

"Good," Art said. "I'll await your decision."

After the call was disconnected, Raylan restlessly paced back and forth. The tension in the room was so thick, it could be cut with a knife. "I'm of no use to ya' here," he maintained. "Ya' heard what Art had to say. I could maybe get this case movin', off the dime, if you'd just say the word and let me return to Lexington."

"Well . . . I don't know if you're of _no_ use to me," Karen smiled.

"Not funny." Raylan was visibly pissed.

"Art seems to think he'd get more mileage from this Crowder character if you were there." She placed her hand in the pocket of her tight skirt. "And this lead of a connection between Arndt and this Limehouse does need to be followed up." She looked up. "You go to Lexington, you're back on Art's payroll. Screw the GAO, and their fucking budget!" she finally caved. "If Art wants his _Hillbilly Whisperer_ back, then, so be it."

"Thank you!" Raylan said, expelling a sigh of relief. He braced her by the shoulders, square in his hands. "But I need to ask ya' for one more thing. I want Agent Rulé to come with me."

Goodall looked at him, quizzically.

"It's no secret that our office and the Feebs are about as compatible as oil and water," Raylan shared. "This is a terrorist case, and the Feebs should be there. But it sure would be nice to have an agent who would work with us, and not against us, for once."

"Not to mention, she'll still have her per diem," Karen said, thinking like a bureaucrat. "Fine. Tell Agent Rulé to go ahead and book your flights. You two come and see me before you leave, okay?"

"Okay," Raylan said, visibly relieved to be getting this show on the road and back to Winona and his baby girl.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"How're you feeling, Daddy?" The morning sunshine streamed through the window as Winona perched on the arm of the recliner, Willa against her shoulder.

"Tired," he said, breathing heavily. "I don't have any energy. Just taking a shower wore me out."

"We did have a busy day yesterday," she acknowledged. "And the doctor said that you might tire easily."

"Give me that baby girl." He held out his arms. Winona handed her over and he tucked her against his shoulder, gently patting her back.

"Errrrup," Willa burped.

"That felt good, didn't it?" Davis turned his head and smiled at his granddaughter. "A good belch always feels good." He held her up in front of him, his hands securely under her arms. Willa pushed her feet into his legs and waved her arms.

"Da-da-da-da-da!" she screeched.

"Yes, your daddy will be here later today," Winona said, grabbing one of the baby's hands. "I think she really misses him."

"She's a daddy's girl, huh?" His eyes met Winona's.

"Like me," she said.

Supporting the baby with one hand he reached out with the other and squeezed hers. "No tears," he said.

"Okay." She turned away and blinked her eyes a few times just as Gayle walked in carrying her cell phone.

"Um," Gayle said, her smile too bright. "I have some good news. Well, at least I think its good news." She slipped the phone into her pocket and began to fluff the pillows on the overstuffed couch, avoiding their curious gazes. "Mama's coming. She just called from the airport in Miami. She'll be here by dinnertime."

"Well, shit." Davis Reeves said. "I guess my luck's run out."

Both daughters looked at him.

"I was hoping I'd kick the bucket before she showed up."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Raylan angled his cramped, long legs out into the aisle. His marshal status bought him two tickets in Coach on the sold-out 11:55 a.m. flight, bumping a couple of US Airways employees who were on standby. He was not happy that the flight had to make a stop in Charlotte before proceeding to Lexington, but at least they would arrive in time for him to see Winona and Willa before her bedtime. Art said he and Anna should stop by the office first thing the next morning, meaning they could go straight to Gayle's house.

It was a miserable, rough flight as they flew through turbulence from thunderstorms. The pilot instructed everyone to keep their seat belt fastened and to stay seated. Neither Anna nor Raylan had time to grab lunch, and by the time they had taken off from Charlotte, Raylan's stomach was growling. The stewardess threw a couple of bags of peanuts at them. No meals were available on either leg of their flight.

Anna leaned over and tapped Raylan's shoulder. "I'm going to order a Bloody Mary. Can I buy you one? I figure at least it comes with a couple of olives or a celery stick."

"Yeah," Raylan said, uncrossing his arms. "That sounds good." He reached up and pressed the _'Call'_ button.

Adam said he would be glad to pick them up from the airport, as he had Raylan's Lincoln. So, Raylan thought that he and Anna might as well sit back and try to relax on the bumpy flight.

"Could we have a couple of Bloody Marys?" Raylan asked the stewardess when she answered his call. "Do they come with olives?"

"Yes, they do," she said as she cancelled the call light and pulled down their tray tables, placing a napkin on top.

"Good. And some more peanuts?" Raylan asked, flashing his badge. He leaned over and shared, "We didn't have a chance to grab lunch."

The stewardess smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks," Raylan nodded.

Anna handed her credit card over. "And keep 'em coming," she remarked, referring to the drinks.

When the turbulence tested her balance, the stewardess hung on to the back of Raylan's headrest. "I'll be right back with your drinks."

Without realizing it, Anna's fingers were clamped tightly around Raylan's forearm. The plane was bouncing up and down.

"I take it ya' don't like roller coaster rides?" he teased.

Anna chuckled. "I love amusement park rides. But _this_ is for the birds."

The plane continued to bounce and, at one point, it seemed to drop in altitude.

"Shit," Raylan uttered under his breath, losing his cool.

It was about that time, the stewardess reappeared and handed him two plastic cups filled halfway with ice and olives on toothpicks. She also handed him two airline size bottles of Smirnoff's and two small cans of Spicy V8 Juice. "Sorry, I couldn't mix your drinks, but they would have spilled out of the glass by the time I made it to your seat."

"That's not a problem," Raylan said, passing Anna's drink ingredients to her. "We'll mix 'em here."

"Oh, and I found these," she said, pulling two small bags of pretzels form her apron pocket.

"Ahhhhh. Bless ya'." He was pleased with her find.

Feeling no pain from their three in-flight Bloody Mary's and very little food, Anna and Raylan walked down the gate and into the Louisville airport. Uncharacteristically loose, Raylan slung an arm around his could-be-sister's shoulder as they made their way toward baggage pick-up.

"Whaddya really thinkin' about those DNA results?" he asked.

She turned to him as they stepped off the escalator. "Honestly?" she asked. "I'm pretty sure they're going to be positive." She smiled. "And I'm glad."

"Me, too," he said, giving her a squeeze.

"Raylan?"

He whirled around, almost losing his balance. "Margery?" His former mother-in-law stood staring at him and Anna. Raylan's arm slid from around her shoulders. "Uh . . . what're you doin' here?"

"I _was _married to the man for thirty-one years. And he's my girls' father. I'm here to be with Gayle and Winona, support them through this trying time," the well-groomed, older woman said.

Raylan had always thought Gayle favored their mother, and Winona favored Davis, especially in personality.

The woman glared daggers at Raylan, his arm still around the tall, attractive woman standing before her. "And who is this?" she asked. Margery had always known of Raylan's propensity to be somewhat of a ladies' man from her daughter.

"This is Anna Rulé," he answered, he glared back at her, knowing that Winona shared everything with her mother.

"Oh. Anna!" Margery was both taken aback and relieved at that same time. Winona had failed to mention that Anna was of African American descent. She would never have guessed.

"Anna, _this_ is Winona's mother, Margery," he finished the introduction. "She lives in Miami."

"How do you do?" Anna extended her hand.

Margery took Anna's hand gently in hers. "I'm very happy to meet you, dear." She studied Anna up and down, standing next to Raylan, side by side. "Oh, my. I can see the resemblance between you two. The height. The slim build. The way you stand. Something in the eyes."

Raylan and Anna looked at each other and smiled. "That seems to be the general consensus," he said. "We're still waitin' on the DNA results."

"Oh, you don't need any DNA results to tell that you two are related!" Margery declared.

Raylan was suddenly reminded of how opinionated Margery could be. "We were headin' over to Baggage Claim," he informed her. "Anna's boyfriend is pickin' us up in my car, so there's plenty of room."

"Thank you," Margery said. "That will save me the taxi fare."

Anna texted their arrival to Adam and let him know there would be an extra passenger.

Later, as they stood in front of the baggage carousel waiting for the bags from their flight to arrive, Margery filled Anna and Raylan in on all the latest details of Davis' condition. He thought it odd she was so on top of her ex-husband's situation, but that was Margery's way. She was somewhat of a busy body.

"Oh, here comes mine," she pointed upon spying her black American Tourister bag with a bright orange scarf tied to it to identify it at a glance.

"Here. Let me get that for you," Raylan said and grabbed it off the conveyor belt.

Anna's bag was not far behind, and Raylan's not far behind hers.

"That's it?" he asked for confirmation.

Once they all agreed they had the right bags, they left the Terminal and crossed the street. As it was springtime, the sun was still out. They had caught a tailwind and arrived 20 minutes early and had to wait what seemed like quite a while for Adam.

Finally, Raylan saw his Lincoln driving up to the curb. He was pleased to see it had been recently washed and waxed. Adam pulled over and popped the trunk, and exited the vehicle, returning the keys to their rightful owner.

"Uh, we had a few on the flight," Raylan admitted with a silly slur. "Would ya' mind drivin'?" He handed the keys back over to Adam.

"Not at all," Adam said, scooping his girl up in his arms. The two kissed, while Raylan loaded the bags in the trunk. "You did have a few," Adam teased Anna, tasting the alcohol on her breath.

"And we're _starving_," Anna complained. "They didn't feed us on the plane."

Kissing Anna tenderly on her temple, Adam softly said, "Lucky for you I have dinner pretty much done. It's going to be taco night."

Anna smiled. She loved his tacos.

"Margery, you can take the front passenger seat," Raylan offered, climbing into the backseat with Anna.

A traffic cop blew a hard whistle at Adam to move it along. He jumped into the driver's seat, turned on the ignition, and drove away from the curb. Raylan directed him as to which lane to get in that would take them on the 20 minute drive on the Expressway.

"Obviously, Winona stayed back at the house with Willa. She's getting the baby fed and bathed so she can visit with you for a while tonight," Adam shared.

"I can't wait," Raylan said. "I missed her. Both my girls."

Adam shared, "They missed you, too."

_(To be continued . . .)_


	17. Chapter 17

_Chapter 17_

_Hot Times_

The flashing lights caught Raylan's eye as Adam turned the Lincoln into the subdivision. Two fire trucks and a police cruiser were parked in front of Gayle's house.

"Shit," he said. Adam had barely slowed to pull to the curb when Raylan had the door open, hopping out and heading toward the small cluster of people huddled on the front lawn. "Winona?"

"Here!" she called, walking toward him with Willa in her arms. He gave her a quick kiss and wrapped her in a hug. "What happened?"

"Everyone is okay," she reassured him. "Gayle was in the shower, and Willa and I were outside sitting on the porch swing. Evidently, Daddy got cold – who knows what he was thinking - and tried to start a fire in the fireplace." She glanced toward the ambulance where Davis Reeves sat on a stretcher, looking bewildered. "He caught his sleeve on fire and put it out with one of the pillows from the couch. Then, he left the pillow smoldering on the floor and went to change his shirt." She gave a short laugh. "A lot of smoke, but no real fire."

Gayle walked up, and much to Raylan's surprise, hugged him. "I'm glad you're here," she said. "Winona's missed you." She turned to her sister. "Daddy's fine. Well, as far as the fire is concerned. Wade opened all the windows and turned on the fans. The place should air out pretty quickly."

By this time, Margery, Adam, and Anna were heading across the lawn. "Are you alright? Is everyone alright?" Margery demanded.

"We're all fine, Mama," Winona said.

"Give me my girl," her mother said, reaching for Willa. "Grandma's missed you!"

"Da-da-da-da," the baby girl squealed with delight upon seeing her father.

"So has Daddy," Raylan said, intercepting Winona's pass. "C'mere you." Willa grinned and batted at him with her hands, reaching for the hat.

Margery let out a disapproving, audible, "tsk." Adam and Anna walked over to the other side of the lawn to give them all a little privacy. They had some catching up of their own to do.

"Sorry, Mama. You'll get your turn," Winona tried to console her mother. "It's just that Willa has been asking for Raylan for days now."

Gayle chimed in, supporting her sister. "It's true, Mom. Willa's been a little on the fussy side, crying 'Da-Da-Da.' Give Raylan a little time with her and then, you can have some quality Grandma time. Davis and Kyle will be so happy to see you. They should be home in about twenty minutes. They went to a birthday party for one of Davis' T-ball teammates."

"Well, I must say, it's good you've been spending time with Willa," Margery said to Raylan. Her granddaughter actually knew who her daddy was. There'd been a time not long ago when Margery had doubted that would ever happen. Now, the baby adored her father, and even Margery could see that he was smitten, too. "It's good for you, and it's good for her."

Winona wrapped her arm inside Raylan's. "It's good for me, too," she said, looking up at her man, longingly.

He turned his head towards Winona and leaned in to give her another kiss.

"Welcome home, Cowboy." She smiled and cocked her head. "Have you been drinking?" she whispered in his ear.

Bouncing Willa in his other arm, he answered, "We had a bad flight. Anna and I did throw back a few on an empty stomach, no less. Any chance we could get somethin' to eat, soon? I know Anna is hungry, too."

"I'll go check with Wade and see how the smoke cleanup is coming along," Gayle volunteered, taking the hint.

"And I'll come with you, Dear," Margery concurred, following her eldest daughter to the house.

Finally, somewhat alone, Raylan went in for another kiss, as Willa watched her parents with wide eyes. Winona stood up on her tip toes to keep it going for some time. When they finally broke for air, she said, "I hope you're not planning on passing out on me, early tonight. I've got plans for you."

"That's what I wanted to hear," he smiled and gave her another kiss. He was counting on his body to react to hers, as it always did. He was not disappointed and pressed her closer. "I know it's only been a few days, but God, I missed you." It was all he could do to control himself, so he abruptly changed his tone and the subject. "How has it been here, with your Dad? I mean, really."

"Well. Look at him over there." Her gaze went back to the paramedics, who looked like they were about to release her father. "His cognition goes in and out. He tires easily." She held on to him tighter. "I don't know. We're just going with the flow. That's all I know how to do."

Raylan drew her in for a hug and gently kissed the top of her head.

She said, "I know you came back to work on a case . . . but I'm so glad you're here."

"Me, too," he echoed. "To get here, I'm back on the payroll of the Marshals Service. No more per diem."

"We can stay here," Winona beat him to the punch. "It's probably just as well we do, under the circumstances."

"Thin walls," he complained, a little.

She chuckled. "Since when has that ever stopped us?"

Gayle was soon at the front door, waving everyone inside, as Wade went outside to talk to the paramedics. Raylan handed Willa back to her mother and walked over to join him.

"Hey there, Raylan," Wade extended his hand.

"How are you holdin' up with all this?" Raylan asked.

"You can imagine," Wade answered. "But it's a hell of a lot easier on me than it is on Gayle and Winona."

The two men approached the senior Davis. "Raylan," the older gentleman said, suddenly tracking normally. "Can you tell these guys that it's okay for me to go back in the house, too?"

Wade stepped up, knowing Raylan had no idea of what had been going on the past few days. "Are you feeling better?" he asked his father-in-law. "You look like you're feeling better."

"I don't want to go back to the hospital," Davis told Raylan with pleading eyes. "I'm sorry about the fire."

The light was dimming in those tired, old eyes, reminding Raylan of when Arlo was declining, before he went to prison. He placed a firm hand on Davis' shoulder, bracing him . . . giving him strength . . . something he was never able to do with his own father.

"Don't worry about it, Pop," Wade said. "More smoke than fire. It'll be fine."

One of the medics pulled Wade aside. "I understand the gentleman has dementia and is under Hospice Care. If that's so, why wasn't someone watching him?"

Keeping his voice down, Wade explained. "At this stage, the workers are here during the day. We're to call them in more frequently as he declines." He shifted his weight. "Look, we're new at this. Never been in this situation before. It is clear to us now that he can't be left alone. We'll call Hospice in 24 hour care . . . at home."

"Good," the medic concurred. "Because that's what he needs."

"Can I come with you, Raylan?" Davis asked.

Amazed that he could remember his name, Raylan answered him. "Looks like. But you can't be goin' off on your own, settin' fires. Deal?" Raylan extended his hand for a shake.

"Deal," Davis answered and shook Raylan's hand.

"C'mon," Raylan said, helping Davis off the gurney, to a standing position. And he offered his arm for the older gentleman to hang onto.

"Raylan?" Wade called from behind. "Would you take him into the living room, and tell Gayle I'm calling the Hospice . . . to see if we can get someone here, tonight?"

"Sure thing," Raylan nodded, leading the old man inside the house.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"I can't wait to get you alone," Adam whispered, pulling Anna in for a quick kiss. They were in Gayle's kitchen, having shooed everyone else out onto the backyard patio. Since the interior of the house was still a bit smoky, and it was a lovely evening, Gayle had suggested dinner be moved outside. Everyone went out to get things ready, but Adam insisted Anna remain as his 'helper'.

"I've missed you, too," Anna told him.

She glanced out the window. The long picnic table was already set for dinner, and Gayle and Winona were sitting on the porch swing, heads bent together, talking. Wade and Raylan, beers in hand, stood at the grill with the older man between them. While Wade watched the chicken, Davis was bending Raylan's ear about something talking animatedly with his hands. Margery was sitting in a lounge chair patty-caking with baby Willa.

"How soon after dinner do you think we can take off without being rude?"

"Since I'm not sure how long I can control myself," Adam said. "It might be rude _not _to leave." He came in close and pressed his hips to hers. "If you get what I'm saying." He grinned.

Anna smacked his fanny and moved away. "Then, we'd better get going on these tacos."

Soon they headed outside, Adam carrying a tray filled with tortillas, homemade salsa and guacamole, and chopped veggies. After the chicken was sliced, everyone loaded up and the conversation ceased as they ate. Kyle and Davis, tired from a day of swimming in their friend's pool and full of party food, slept through dinner.

After supper, Gayle insisted on cleaning up. Anna and Adam made their excuses and left for their hotel.

"I really appreciate you guys staying here," Gayle said while Winona helped her clear the table. "It's going to be a big help."

"Yes," Wade echoed. "Especially since hospice tells me they won't start 24 hour care until we're a bit further along."

"Now, I know you two want some privacy, and with Mama here that'll be in short supply. I have a suggestion." She glanced at her husband, and he nodded. "We really haven't used the room upstairs where, well, you know."

"The nursery." Raylan nodded, remembering the day Nicky Augustine's goons had threatened Winona. He reached for her hand as she stood beside him, giving it a squeeze.

"It's been cleaned up and repainted of course, but we thought we could set up an air mattress, we have a pretty nice one we got for camping, and there's room for the port-a-crib. You'd have a bathroom to yourselves up there, too."

Wade added, "But if that would be uncomfortable, we understand. We can shift things around and put you in the boys' room."

Raylan shrugged his shoulders and looked up at Winona. "Up to you," he said. "I got no problem with it." He adjusted Willa on his lap where she sat, gumming the monkey.

Winona bit her lip. "Okay. The best way to chase away bad memories is to make new ones."

"Good, then it's settled." Gayle linked her arm through Winona's. "Let's get the port-a-crib set up, Willa looks like she's about ready to nod off."

The sisters and Willa went up the stairs together.

"Wow!" Winona exclaimed when Gayle turned on the light to the room. "This doesn't look like the same room, at all."

"That was the idea," Gayle lamented.

"You changed the wall color. New curtains." She looked down. "New carpet."

"Oh, yes. We _had _to replace the carpet," her sister reminisced.

"But your homeowner's insurance took care of it. Right? Was the money we gave you for your deductible enough?" Winona asked, holding tight to Willa who had fallen asleep. She'd been afraid the room would give her the creeps, but it was so changed that it really didn't.

"Yes, of course it was," Gayle patted her sister's arm. "I just meant that _everything_ needed to be replaced. Even the dry wall and the flooring underneath the carpet was replaced . . . the ceiling fixtures." After a beat, she added, "It's all gone," referring to the bloodbath that occurred in that room. "I couldn't have stayed in this house if everything hadn't been replaced."

Winona looked her sister in the eyes. "We are so sorry it happened. In your home . . . that you were so very nice enough to share with us."

Gayle leaned in and gave her baby sister a hug. "We're past all that now."

Wade, who lugged the port-a-crib up the stairs and into the room, interrupted them. He opened it up and set it in the corner. Winona placed her sleeping baby in the crib, on her back.

"I'll inflate the mattress in our room and bring it in," Wade said. "If I do it here, I'm afraid I'll wake the baby."

"Good idea, Hon," Gayle said to her husband.

"Where's Raylan?" Winona asked.

"Oh, your Dad cornered him," Wade answered. "He's talking to him about maybe going fishing this weekend."

"Raylan? Fishing with Daddy?" Winona was surprised in so many ways. "First of all, Daddy can't go fishing. Can he? And Daddy can't even remember Raylan's name half of the time."

"I think that scene with the ambulances shook your Dad up," Wade offered. "For once, he was glad to have a law enforcement officer in the family."

"Ohhhhh," Winona nodded. "That sort of makes sense."

Gayle giggled. "Daddy'll probably be back to calling him Gary by tomorrow."

Winona wrinkled her nose. "How's Raylan handling it?" she asked her brother-in-law.

"Fine," Wade answered, shrugging his shoulders. "He poured himself a bourbon and is down there BSing with Davis. Telling him tales about some of the bad guys he's hunted down."

"Oh, Lord." A smile came over Winona's face. "Raylan's got some stories."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Adam rolled onto his back in bed, huffing for air.

"Whoa," Anna said, panting, beside him. "That . . . was . . . incredible."

"Yeah," Adam nodded, unable to speak.

Their lovemaking was combustible.

Anna ran a finger down his side, and he shivered. "Guess you missed me." She grinned.

"Uh-huh." He was still catching his breath.

She rolled onto her stomach, supporting her weight on her elbows, chin in hand and gazed at him. "I missed you, too."

Emotional vulnerability was rare in his Anna. They had been separated before. It was a common occurrence because of her job, but this time was somehow different. Perhaps because this time, it was Adam who went away.

His eyes searched hers. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Marry me."

"What? Adam, I. . ."

He sat up, taking her face in his hands. "I love you. I know you're worried because you've failed at marriage before, but you won't . . . _WE_ won't." He kissed her softly, encouraged by the fact that the word 'no' had not passed her lips. "I love you. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together, and I want the whole world to know that we're committed to each other."

Anna shook her head, laughing. "I ought to be committed for even considering. . ."

"Say yes," Adam interrupted. "Just say _yes_."

"Yes." Anna's face flushed. "Yes, I love you. Yes, I'll marry you." Under her breath she added. "Crazy. I'm crazy." After a beat, she murmured, "I'm crazy . . . for you."

She leaned in, and Adam kissed her. It was as if he was kissing her for the first time. It vacillated from a hungry kiss, to one that was so tender, he literally took her breath away. She simmered and then, smoldered as Adam sensually kissed her again and again, from the tip of her nose, all the way to her toes.

Usually in control, this time she relinquished it by closing her eyes and letting him have his way with her, as she whimpered with pleasure. Her breathing was heavy when finally, he finally positioned himself over her, his eyes glistening in the dark. She helped him enter her and let out a moan when he filled her in one powerful motion. Leaving her in limbo for a time, he repeated the motion again and again until she went over the edge.

She held on tight while he waited for her waves to subside. When he moved again, she couldn't believe how badly she still wanted him. She mirrored his movements underneath until she crested again. So strong, so patient, he waited yet again for her come down. When he slowly began to move, she was in disbelief that he could bring her to that place yet again, where she had to have him.

"Adam . . . please," she begged, holding on to him even tighter.

He covered her mouth with breathy kisses as she went over the edge a third time. He gasped when he followed her. Breathless and totally spent, he collapsed on top of her. She held him until the quaking quieted. "Happy?" she asked.

"Happiest I've ever been." He kissed her forehead, soft.

She placed her hands around his face and kissed him on the mouth. "I love you," she said.

_(To be continued . . .)_


	18. Chapter 18

_Chapter 18_

_Smokin' Hot Feeb_

Winona tip-toed downstairs, asking Gayle to keep an ear open for Willa. She and her sister had made up the inflatable mattress. A queen size, it was bed height and very firm, much more comfortable than she imagined it would be. The only thing that was missing was Raylan.

She made her way into the den where her father was snoring in the recliner. He sometimes slept there. It didn't look that comfortable, but he hated the hospital bed they'd brought in, and at this stage, she felt he could sleep whatever he wanted. She looked over and saw Raylan stretched out on the sofa, also sound asleep.

Softly, she walked over and knelt down beside him. "Hey, Cowboy," she whispered. "How about coming upstairs to bed with me?"

No response. Raylan was out but good.

"Did Daddy talk your ear off?" she asked, lightly brushing strands of hair off his forehead with her fingertips. "Or was it you who talked off _his_?"

Raylan remained asleep, breathing steady. She wistfully looked at him and smiled. He and her father had never been close, in all the years they were married. It did her heart good to think that Raylan would spend time with her dying father, especially after coming off such a long trip. Especially when she knew he had other things on his mind. She also knew he did it for her, and she loved him even more for it.

She walked over towards the window and pulled a blanket out of the storage chest. Walking back to the sofa, she gently pulled off Raylan's boots and covered him. Turning off the nearby lamp, she leaned down to kiss him and whispered, "You owe me one, Cowboy. Or maybe it's me who owes you."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Coffee?" Gayle held up the carafe as Raylan stumbled into the kitchen the next morning.

"Please." He sank into a chair, massaging the back of his neck with one hand.

"Want some aspirin, too?" she asked, figuring he probably had a hangover.

"Got a crick in my neck," he complained. "Yeah. That'd be good."

Gayle set a cup in front of him. It was hot. "Sleeping on a couch will do that," she said, reaching up in the cabinet for the aspirin bottle and then, handing it to him. "But it was nice of you to watch over Daddy. Did he sleep all night?"

"Must've," Raylan yawned. Popping the cap off the bottle, he swallowed two caplets, dry. "He was still in the chair when I woke up. He's in the bathroom now. Wade's gonna check on him."

"I'm making scrambled eggs. Do you want some?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. Where's Winona?"

"Believe it or not, still asleep," Gayle chuckled. "Willa was up for a bit around five and when she went back down, Winona went back to bed."

"I don't blame her," Raylan said, stifling another yawn. "I'd love to join her, but I need to get into the office and talk to Art." He pulled out his cell phone. "I should text Anna, tell her I'll pick her up."

"You can shower in our bathroom if you don't want to wake Winona and the baby," she suggested, passing him a plate of steaming hot, soft scrambled eggs with a couple of slices of rye toast.

"Thanks," he said. "I might take ya' up on that." He finished up with his text. "Guess it's a good thing my bag's still out in the car. I fell asleep before bringin' it in last night."

Gayle joined him at the table with her own plate of eggs. But before taking her seat, she passed him one more thing. "I had a key to the house made for you. I know you came here to work on a case and your hours could be . . . unpredictable. You are welcome to come and go here, any time, day or night."

"Thank you," he said, looking down at the key in hand. He couldn't help but think about how things had changed between Gayle and him over all these years. "Gayle." He looked up. "I'm so sorry about Davis. I know how hard this is. On everyone."

Fighting back tears, she gulped down the lump in her throat. All she could do was nod.

Raylan leaned forward. "I can't promise I'll be here every night or at what time, but I'm happy to sit with him when I am here. He don't seem to mind me so much anymore."

Pushing a bite of eggs onto her fork, Gayle smiled. "He thinks he's got his own private marshal to get him out of scrapes with the fire department or whatever else he can stir up."

"Well . . . what else are son-in-laws for?" Raylan took another sip of his coffee with a little smile coming over his face. "It's the least I can do for him. Be his wing man."

Gayle chuckled. She had never seen this side of Raylan before. He let his guard down, or maybe she'd let down hers. At any rate, she could see why Winona liked him so much. When he was easy, he was easy to be around. "Just don't encourage him to kick up his heels _too much_."

"Just so ya' know, he's talking about takin' a road trip. To Nashville. To see some of his buddies one last time," Raylan recollected the prior night's conversation.

"Was this before or after going on his last big fishing trip?" she shook her head smiling. "God Bless, Daddy. His spirit is willing . . . but his body's not keeping up."

Raylan popped a big bite of eggs in his mouth, followed by a bite of toast. He washed it down with more coffee before speaking. "Yeah, he was talkin' about some golly whopper he was after that he never got to catch. Back in Nashville."

"Marrowbone Lake," she said wistfully. "We spent a lot of family vacations there growing up. That's where Winona learned how to swim. The hard way. After I pushed her into the lake."

"Really?" he said, his eyes squinted in disbelief. The two sisters had always seemed so close.

"Well, there was this boy," she admitted. "His name was Dana. I was eliminating my competition," she chuckled. "I thought if Dana knew that she couldn't swim, that would sink it for Winona. No pun intended."

"That was kinda mean. Wasn't it?" he sounded surprised.

"It was. But if it makes you feel any better, my adolescent plan backfired," she continued. "When she was floundering out there in the water, Dana jumped in to rescue her. And then, he spent the rest of the summer teaching her how to swim."

Raylan smiled. "Dana, huh?"

"Yes, Dana Richardson. Ask her about him." She had just thrown her brother-in-law a bone. There was a first time for everything.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"You're awful quiet," Raylan said as he easily maneuvered the Lincoln into the express lane headed for Lexington.

Anna sipped her coffee and shrugged. Part of her was bursting to tell Raylan her and Adam's news, but the other, more cautious part of her, sent up warning signals. She took another sip of coffee and decided it best to change the subject. "So, tell me about your office. You've mentioned Art, but I know you aren't the only Marshal in Lexington."

"Heh. No," Raylan chuckled. "There are four of us under Art, plus staff. Tim Gutterson, he's our sniper. Former Army Ranger. We get along, have each other's back, but I can't say I know him that well. He's kind of an enigma. He has a real dry sense of humor you'll appreciate. Then, there's Rachel Brooks. She's straight-up by-the-book, and an excellent Marshal. I work with her a lot. I think Art keeps hopin' she'll rub off on me."

That earned a smile from Anna. "Yeah, they assigned me a partner like that for a while."

"Did your partner rub off on ya'?" Raylan grinned.

"What do you think?" she returned the smile. She couldn't help but note his sense of humor was growing on her.

"Then, there's Nelson," Raylan returned to the office roll call. "He transferred in 'bout the same time I did. His wife's from Lexington. They've got twin girls. I think they're five. He's a by-the-book guy, too, but not as sharp as Rachel. She's gonna make Chief one day."

"Sounds like you have a lot of respect for her."

"Oh, I respect Tim and Nelson, too," Raylan said. "And they'd all have my back if need be. But yeah, Rachel's got what it takes."

Raylan pulled into the parking lot and parked the Lincoln. He then led Anna in through the back of the courthouse building, up the elevator, and into the Marshals Service offices.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat drug in," Tim started in immediately, as if he'd been lying in wait. Flatly, he asked, "Did you bring me back a souvenir? Did you see the pandas?"

Raylan shook his head and smiled. "No and, uh, no. Deputy Marshal Tim Gutterson, may I introduce Special Agent Anna Rulé from the FBI? Anna is here from the task force, to work on the Arndt case."

"My pleasure," Tim said, looking the Agent up and down. _She's fine_, he thought to himself.

"Likewise," Anna nodded.

"Where's Rachel? Art?" Raylan asked.

"Not in, yet," Tim answered. "It's Rachel's turn to make the coffee run. Technically, it was your turn," he said to Raylan. "And it will be your turn every day for about a week. That ought to make us all square."

"The coffee here is lousy," Raylan explained to Anna. "We take turns bringing in some decent coffee for all."

Tim was preoccupied, texting. "Guess I better tell Rachel we need another one. How do you take yours, Anna?"

"Could I get a skinny latte?" Anna asked.

"You can get whatever you want," Tim said, still texting. "Raylan's buying."

"I'll buy hers, not yours," Raylan informed Tim.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Engaged?!" Winona shrieked. Willa, startled, looked at her mother with wide eyes. Winona shifted her baby girl to her hip and hugged Adam. "I'm so happy for you both! I can't wait to see the ring."

Adam gave her a lopsided grin. "Well, my proposal was a bit spontaneous."

"There isn't a ring?"

"Not yet."

"Well," Winona said. "Wade and Gayle are taking Daddy to an appointment, and Mama is going to lunch with some friends she hasn't seen forever. That leaves Willa and I free to go ring shopping with you, and I know just the place to start."

An hour later, with Winona driving Wade's car, they headed for Winona's favorite jeweler, Rosenberg's, in Lexington. "I'll text Raylan and let him know we're here," she said, chattering away. "That way, if they get a break they can meet us for lunch." She smiled at Adam. "We can celebrate the good news."

Inside the store, Winona walked purposefully past the cases of watches, necklaces, and bracelets to a special case in the center of the room. "They do the most gorgeous work here," she said. "It's all done on site, not like the big mall jewelry stores."

A slim dark haired woman in a beige linen pantsuit approached them, smiling. "What a darling baby girl. Is there something I can help you with?"

Winona jabbed a finger at Adam. "HE needs an engagement ring. I'm just here for moral support and a second opinion."

"Oh?" The woman took a key from her pocket and unlocked the back of the cabinet, taking out a tray. "These are some of our newer designs. I especially like this one." She slipped a pear-shaped gem in a fancy gold setting onto her finger.

Adam shook his head. "Anna doesn't wear a lot of gold." The clerk showed him several others, and he dismissed each one. They were all beautiful, but this ring had to be perfect.

"What about this one?" Winona pointed to an emerald-cut stone in a modern-looking platinum setting. "That looks like Anna," She remarked. "It's feminine, but not fussy."

"Can I see that one?" Adam asked.

The woman slipped it out of the tray and placed it in Adam's outstretched palm. He gazed at it for a moment, then turned it over, glancing at the band and the underside of the stone.

"What's also nice about this ring is its smooth. It won't catch on her clothing or interfere with her work," Winona noted. A ring compatible with firearms. She remembered making the same considerations when she shopped for Raylan's ring, so long ago.

"How much?" he asked.

The woman recited the price from memory. "$5,200. That diamond is 1.25 carats and the setting is our finest. We _are_ currently having a 10% off Founder's Day Sale, so that would bring it down to $4,600. Plus tax of course. Sizing is free."

To Winona's surprise, Adam didn't flinch at the price. "Can you hold it for me until this afternoon?" He asked. "I'd like to pay cash, and I need to find a branch of my bank here in town."

"Certainly, Sir." The woman smiled, thrilled at the prospect of making a big sale, and not on credit to boot.

While Adam filled out a slip with his name and cell-phone number, Winona continued to stare into the case. When she and Raylan married the first time, they did it on the fly at the courthouse in Salt Lake City, the week before he had to be at his new assignment in Dallas. There hadn't been time for an engagement, or money for a ring. They hadn't even gotten real wedding bands until their first anniversary. She still had hers, somewhere. She had no idea what happened to Raylan's.

Gary had gotten her a huge ring, of course, and for a while she'd enjoyed showing it off. But by the time Raylan came back into her life she'd stopped wearing it, seeing it for what it was, another of Gary's ostentatious displays of wealth he really didn't have.

"You want to get married again?" Adam said, sliding up beside her.

"Gah!" Willa reached down for the shiny objects in the case.

"I didn't think I'd ever want to do that again," Winona said. "But now..." she kissed the baby's soft cheek. "It doesn't seem like such a bad idea."

They turned to walk out of the store and Adam grinned at her. "Maybe I'll have to put a bug in Raylan's ear."

"Don't you dare!" Winona swatted at him with her free hand.

"I bet all he needs is a little push," Adam teased her. "He's obviously crazy about you."

"Crazy is a pretty apt word for our relationship at times, I'm afraid."

Adam held out his hands for the baby as Winona fished in her purse for the car keys. "Loving someone isn't always easy," he said. "If it was, there would be a lot fewer divorces."

Winona watched as he buckled Willa into the car seat, then slipped behind the wheel. She started the car then turned to look at Adam. "I haven't always made the best choices. Raylan isn't the easiest man to live with. Being a lawman has always come first."

"I can relate to that," he said, nodding.

"And the way he does his job, well," she sighed. "The day I told him I was pregnant he went off to Harlan to find this girl . . . Loretta . . . who had a gun and was going after the woman who killed her daddy. He wanted to stop her. He did stop her . . . probably saved her life . . . but he got himself shot in the process. All I could think about was that I'd come in second _again_, me and our baby. That was the second time I left him."

She realized she was going on, but it had been so long since she'd had someone, anyone besides Gayle, to talk to, especially someone who just might understand. "I came back, of course, when I heard he was shot. I stayed with him in the hospital, then back in the motel. I stayed with him, and Raylan talked about finding a house . . . acted like he wanted to settle down . . . but nothing ever came of it. So, I left him again."

Adam held up three fingers, and she nodded, blushing.

"So, why is this time different?"

"I don't know," she said, honestly. "But it is. Maybe what happened with those Detroit Mafia guys . . ."

"What happened?"

Winona pulled into the courthouse parking lot and circled until she found a spot. Turning to Adam she told him about Nicky Augustine and the shootout at Gayle's.

"Wow." Adam gave a low whistle when she was done. "I had no idea. What an awful thing to go through."

"It was." She pulled a lipstick off her purse and used the rear-view mirror to apply it. "I went to Miami to stay with Mama. Raylan came down when Willa was born. But after a week, he was back up here, and we didn't see him for almost five months. I got tired of it, and Art . . . that's Raylan's boss . . . suggested I come up and surprise him." She smiled. "And here we are."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Tim was lone man in the office when Winona and Adam came in.

"Hey," he said, barely glancing up from his computer. "You just missed Raylan. He and Rachel went down to Harlan to introduce the smokin' hot FBI Agent to Boyd Crowder." Under his breath, he added, "If she wasn't Raylan's sister, I'd would definitely hit that." He hit 'Send' on his e-mail, and his eyes lifted from the screen. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Adam Reeves, the smokin' hot FBI agent's fiancé." Winona chuckled. "Adam, this is Deputy Marshal Tim Gutterson."

Tim stood, extending his hand to Adam. "Ah, um, nice to meet you." He shrugged, grinning. "You're a lucky man.

"I am," Adam said, returning the grin. "Nice to meet you, too."

Winona cut though the awkward air by changing the subject and asking Tim, "So, you do think Anna really is Raylan's half-sister?"

"Uh. Yeah," Tim said, as if it was obvious.

_(To be continued . . .)_


	19. Chapter 19

_Chapter 19_

_Best Laid Plans_

"Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens!" Boyd Crowder sang out the name loudly and flashed his mega-watt smile upon seeing his old friend enter his bar. As if making a public announcement to his barfly patrons who were there to drink their lunch, he continued. "Back from our Nation's capital. Thank you for meeting me here. No offense, but your offices . . . cramp my style."

Raylan removed his Stetson and raked his fingers through his hair. "Boyd. You 'member Deputy Marshal Brooks? And _this_ is Special Agent Rulé from the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"Ladies," Boyd smiled, nodding at the two women law enforcement officers. He couldn't help but notice the second African American woman accompanying Raylan. She was much taller than the other, and something about her seemed familiar, although he was sure they'd never met.

Not there for small talk, Raylan impatiently asked, "Could we all have a word? In private?"

"But of course. We can convene in my office." Boyd motioned to a young man with close-cropped blonde hair who followed as he led them down the hall, into his office, and closed the door after the ladies entered.

"I said in private, Boyd."

"You have your contingent Raylan. Yet, you'd deny me my right hand man Jimmy here?" Jimmy crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall.

Sighing, but deciding not to argue, Raylan wasted no time. "We checked out your story about Leon Arndt's daddy, and you were right. There does appear to be bad blood between the Arndts and Limehouses."

"See?" Boyd grinned. "And all this time, you thought the only feud in these hills and hollers was between the Givens and the Bennett clans."

Anna, who was standing behind them flashed a questioning look at Rachel, who slowly and silently nodded her head, indicating that what Anna heard was correct. "Feuds? There are actual feuds in this part of the country?" Anna asked.

"Oh, yes," Boyd knowingly nodded.

"I thought a lot of the talk about feuds was based on folklore," she continued, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Is that a touch of Creole I hear in that accent of yours?" Boyd asked, deflecting her conversation.

"I was brought up in New Orleans," Anna played along. "That's a good ear you have."

"Why thank you," Boyd grinned, looking the Agent up and down. "Of course your name being _Ru-lay _gave me a clue before you even opened that pretty mouth of yours." He showed his teeth again.

The steeliness of Boyd's intense stare made her a little uncomfortable.

"No offense, Boyd, but can we get back to reason why we're all here?" Raylan insisted.

"No offense taken," Boyd turned his attending back to Raylan.

Raylan pulled a cell phone, not his, out of the inside pocket of his jacket. "What say you give ol' Leon a call, and see if ya' can interest him in some of your services? After all, ya' do so like to blow shit up."

Boyd looked a little confused.

"Arndt's number is programmed into the phone," Rachel informed Boyd. "It's the only number in there."

Taking the phone from Raylan, Boyd stalled for a moment by saying, "Well, don't y'all think of everything." Taking in a deep breath, he asked, "I assume this phone is bugged?"

"Ya'd be assumin' right," Raylan answered.

Boyd scrolled, finding one lone number, just as Rachel described. He hit the _'call'_ button. After four rings, someone answered.

"Hello?"

"Well, hello." Boyd's voice was as cool as a cucumber. "I'm looking to have a conversation with Leon Arndt. Might that be you, Sir?"

"Who is this?" The voice on the other end of the call was low and stern.

Boyd shifted his weight onto his other foot. "My name is Boyd Crowder. I'm callin' from Harlan County Kentucky. And I thought I might be of service to you in some of your . . . political endeavors."

"How did you get this number?"

"It seems you and I have some mutual friends in the Freedom Movement," Boyd explained.

"Crowder. That name sounds familiar."

"I'm a powder man. Got my training here, in the mines."

"Crowder," the voice continued, sounding as if he was deep in thought. "Aren't you the one who is running drugs in Kentucky?"

"Well. You know. I do a little of this . . . and a little of that." After a pause, he continued. "I also do a little in the Emulex business. You wouldn't by chance be in need of some? You know, to support the cause?"

"Mr. Crowder?" The voice became even sterner. "I don't cater to drug dealing. Not interested."

"Buuuut," Boyd sensed the man's urgency.

The call was abruptly disconnected. The look on Boyd's face was one of both surprise and relief. "No dice," he announced, powering the phone down. "Now what, law man?" he asked, handing the phone back to Raylan.

"Shit," Raylan swore under his breath, pocketing the phone. "I guess I gave that silver tongue of yours way too much credence," Raylan let out a sigh, knowing Karen Goodall would not be pleased with his oversell of the situation. This would surely mean egg on her face and no telling what for his.

Boyd shrugged. "You can't say I didn't try."

Raylan set his jaw firm. "Nope. Ya' did good." Raylan had no one to blame but himself for this one.

"There's always Noble's Holler," Rachel suggested to Raylan.

Boyd flashed another grin. "Would you do me a favor, Raylan? When you go to see Elstin? Don't mention my name."

Raylan rolled his eyes and scrubbed his face in frustration with his hand. Today was already turning into a very long day.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

The familiar guards stepped out of the shadows as Raylan drove the Lincoln onto the bridge.

Anna, in the passenger seat reached for her gun. "Jesus!"

Rachel leaned forward, putting a hand on the other woman's shoulder. "We should've warned you. They're nothing to worry about. Elstin is pretty serious about guarding Noble's."

Raylan rolled down the window.

"You again, Marshal?" The shorter of the two men peered into the car, eyes narrowing when he saw Anna. "I know this'n," he said, hooking a thumb at Rachel in the back seat. "But who's she?"

Before Raylan could stop her, Anna flashed her badge. "Anna Rulé, FBI."

The man cast a look over his shoulder at his partner and the taller man approached the car. "Mr. Limehouse is unavailable."

"You tell him Raylan Givens is here, and I'm bringin' someone he'll be interested in meetin'."

"Her?"

Raylan nodded. "Seein' as he's already acquainted with Marshal Brooks."

The second man tugged a phone from his pocket and turned away. A moment later he came back, leaning on the window. "Mr. Limehouse says to come on up." He didn't move. "I don't trust you."

"Good to know." Raylan flashed him a grin and put the car in gear, pressing on the accelerator so the man had to jump back or be dragged along.

"What is this place?" Anna swiveled in the seat to stare at the men as the car went around the bend.

"Noble's Holler. It was settled by freed slaves during the Civil War," Rachel explained. "And today? All its residents want to be left alone, from the white people, the outside world, the law. The government."

"And the elder, self-proclaimed protector of the holler is this guy ya've heard me talk about, Elstin Limehouse," Raylan chimed in. "He's also been known to hide money for various residents of Harlan County who don't want their money to be found. For a variety of reasons . . . all for a fee, of course. And he's a general snoop and know-it-all wise ass. If ya' want to know the latest gossip in Harlan, he's your man."

Raylan slowly drove up to the diner and parked the Lincoln. Anna could smell barbecue in the air just as soon as she stepped out of the car. The three law enforcement officers entered the rustic establishment where they found patron residents scattered at the bar and at tables, all far too interested in their arrival.

"What's all 'dis here commotion about, Marshal?" Limehouse leered at Raylan from behind the bar. "I understands you brought a female FBI Agent of color. Along wit yo' lady marshal who I already had 'da pleasure of meetin'."

"We were wantin' to know if we could have a word . . . without all your firepower," Raylan tipped the brim of his hat back, off his forehead, referring to his diner full of supporters. "There's no need for that."

Limehouse stared at the three. Raylan owed him a favor or two, and these two gals looked like not much of a threat. "Why don't ya'll follow me out to 'da smokehouse," he finally spoke and motioned, and he led them to the back of the diner.

They walked through the kitchen, out a screen door and then, down a gravel path past a butchering shed. Anna's eyes became large as she spied pig carcasses, suspended from the ceiling.

"This place is giving me the creeps," Anna whispered to Rachel.

"Don't I know it," Rachel agreed. "Remind me on the way home to have Raylan tell you the story of Robert Quarles."

"Quarles?" Anna tried to repeat the odd sounding name.

"Yes. That's it. With a 'Q'," she verified.

Once they reached the smokehouse, Limehouse walked over to a pile of hickory chips and added a shovel full into the fiery pit where a side of pork was roasting on a spit. The flames grew into a flashover, creating a wall of heat that caused the law enforcement offices to back away. Raylan and Rachel surmised Limehouse did this for show.

"Leon Arndt," Raylan shouted over the roar of the fire.

Limehouse flashed a look at Raylan, the whites of his eyes showing under the brim of his hat. "What 'bout him?"

"The government has been investigatin' him for quite some time. For suspicion of instigatin' terrorist activities here in the States," Raylan answered the man. "Resumin' their reign of hate and terror."

"What's 'dat got ta do wit me?" Limehouse asked, loading up his shovel with more of the smoking chips.

"It's pretty well known that there is bad blood between your two families," Rachel added. "That could make you a possible target."

Once again, the fire in a flash wall of heat, as soon as Limehouse added the shovel full of hickory. "'dat was a long, long time ago. I haven't heard anything 'bout the Arndt clan in . . . I can't tell ya' when."

"He's got no love lost for ya', Elstin," Raylan decided to push a little harder. "We could offer ya' protection."

Limehouse chuckled out loud. "Thanks. But no thanks. No offense, but we been able to protect our holler for over a century, on our own. I ain't really worried 'bout no Arndts. There is only one way in 'dis holler, and one way out." And with that, he stoked the fire with yet another shovel full of hickory to the flames flare.

Raylan rolled his eyes. Elstin could be so dramatic.

Remembering what Raylan told her about Limehouse being the source of information for Harlan County, Anna finally spoke. "If you do hear from him . . . or anything about him . . . would you call us?"

Limehouse focused his attention squarely on her for the first time. "Well. Since you aksed me so nice." He grinned as he took a card from her and glanced at it. "Are ya' from da' land a crawdads and hot, spicy gumbo . . . Ms. Rulé?"

"You got me," Anna smiled, deciding to try and win him over. "I was raised in New Orleans.'

"And much like da' lady marshal here, you is much too pretty to be an Agent for da' F . . . B . . . I."

Anna opened her badge and flashed it at him in a non-threatening manner. "I can assure you I am a bona fide Agent of the Federal Government."

"I can see you is," Limehouse nodded.

Turning his attention back to Raylan, he changed the subject. "How 'dat little matter you came ta see me 'bout last time work out for ya'?"

Carefully choosing his words, Raylan answered, "I dunno, yet. I'll let ya' know when I know somethin'."

"It seems . . . you and me . . . we is at a Mexican standoff." Limehouse put down the shovel and place his hands on his hips, over his apron. "I got no info'mation for ya' . . . and ya' don't got no info'mation for me."

"Looks like," Raylan countered. "You call us if ya' hear anything. Thanks, Elstin." Raylan turned on his heel, leaving the smokehouse empty handed, and headed for his car. Rachel and Anna followed as Limehouse watched them all walk away. He did a double take as he watched the FBI Agent walk down the gravel path in a very slow and similar fashion to Marshal Givens'.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

The drive back to Lexington left Raylan with time to think how he was going to stall a call in to Karen Goodall for a progress report. Anna felt bad for him. He couldn't come up with anything. She could see he how driven he was to solve this case.

To pass the time, Rachel had Raylan tell Anna the story of how Robert Quarles lost his arm at the hands of one Elstin Limehouse. Anna suggested they were embellishing in order to tell a good story, despite their assurances that every word was true. They even encouraged her to ask Art to confirm the details.

After spending the morning with Rachel and getting a sense of how professional and trusted she was, Anna felt comfortable enough to ask something personal of Raylan in her presence. "So, that Limehouse fellow. Was he the one you went to see when you were looking for information about me?"

Rachel looked out the side window, interested in hearing details but trying to give them some privacy.

"Yeah. That would be him," Raylan answered, his eyes still on the road ahead.

Anna shifted her weight in her seat and turned towards him. "Do you think Limehouse could be my biological father?"

Raylan let out an uncomfortable sigh and glanced over at her. "I dunno. I mean, I thought about that possibility. He wouldn't say anything to me about who the baby's father was. Is." After a silent pause, Raylan added. "We don't know anything yet. But once we get word on our DNA tests . . . if need be? We can start in on that very question."

Anna looked up at him. The always sure of herself, FBI Agent assigned to investigate Domestic Terrorism was looking mighty apprehensive.

"I promise," he nodded, and he reached over and reached over for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

When they cleared out of the holler, Raylan and Anna's cell phones beeped almost simultaneously. Raylan glanced at his quickly, then pressed the phone to his ear. Beside him, Anna did the same.

Winona's voicemail began. "_Raylan. I got us dinner reservations for the four of us at Guiseppe's for seven-thirty, so we can celebrate. Don't worry about changing, I asked for a table on the patio. If you're running late, you can meet us at the restaurant. Leslie and Art offered to watch Willa for us. Well . . . Leslie offered. So, we are child-free until after dinner. Love you!" _

_Celebrate what? _Raylan thought. He took a sideways glance at Anna. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line as she listened to her own voice message. She sighed, pressing the end call button on her phone and letting it fall into her lap.

"Somethin' wrong?" Raylan asked after a few miles passed, punctuated by several more sighs. Rachel was silent in the backseat, busily typing something into her own phone.

Anna shook her head. "No, not really. Adam just . . . over-shared a bit with Winona."

Raylan drove on, the setting sun shining through the windows. He figured Anna would either tell him what it was, or he'd find out later from Winona. Then, he had a thought. "It's not about the DNA results, is it?"

"No," Anna assured him. "I'd tell you right away. Anyway, I arranged for the preliminary results to be emailed to both of us." She gazed out the window for a moment, wondering herself when those results would be available.

"Sounds like the four of us are goin' to Guiseppe's for dinner," Raylan offered Anna, changing the subject. "It's a nice, authentic Italian place. Bring your appetite. They've got good food. Even Adam's culinary palette will approve." After a beat, he added, "Seems me and Winona are flyin' solo without little Willa for the first time . . . in a long, long time."

"Do you and Winona every think about getting married, again?" Anna asked a seemingly random question, all the while knowing it didn't work out too well for them in the past.

Was it Raylan's imagination, or did Rachel suddenly sit up straighter in the back seat, interested in his answer? "Sure," he nodded, eyes still carefully on the road. "It just always seems like everything's up in the air with us. Right now? It's her family . . . her dad. Usually, it's my job or . . . where are we gonna live? Lexington? Miami? Georgia?"

"Seems to me it's all tied together," she commented. "With these jobs that we do."

"You ever regret your decision to go to work for the FBI?"

"Oh, no," she answered. "I love what I do. I mean, every once in a while, I'll get stuck on a case that isn't moving forward, or I have to work with a person I don't care for."

"Ya' mean like _this_ stalled case and havin' to work with the likes of me?" he chuckled, knowing it was no joking matter.

"No, I didn't mean it that way at all," she said. "Do I ever regret my job? Most of the time, it suits me. Suits who I am. I could never be happy with a 9 to 5 desk job."

"I know what ya' mean," Raylan concurred, wondering how he was going to be able to keep his, if he couldn't figure out a way to get to Arndt.

_(To be continued . . .)_


	20. Chapter 20

_Chapter 20_

_Celebration_

After dropping Rachel off at the Courthouse, Raylan and Anna headed for Giuseppe's. He decided it would be better not to see Art. That way, his boss would have plausible deniability if Karen Goodall called asking about Boyd and Arndt. Eventually, he'd have to figure out what to tell her, but right now, he didn't have a clue.

"Table for Givens," he told the maître de. "I think we're on the patio."

It was a different man tonight, younger, with his blond hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. And to Raylan's relief, there was no sign of Angela, the owner's hovering wife.

"Yessir, right this way," the young man said. Weaving through the tables in the already crowded dining room, he led Raylan and Anna to a table in the back corner of the patio, facing the small stage where a red-headed girl sat on a stool, tuning her guitar. The stone patio was surrounded by an iron-work fence bordered with Japanese maples hung with strings of white lights. On each table, a fragrant magnolia blossom floated in a crystal bowl.

"Here's your table, Sir." The maître de set a menu at each place and stepped back, allowing Raylan to take his seat.

"We beat 'em here?" Raylan raised an eyebrow at Anna. "I'm shocked."

"Me, too." Anna sat in the chair the young man pulled out for her, then took out her phone and texted Adam while Raylan ordered a whiskey for himself and a bottle of wine for the other three to share. She took in the surroundings as she waited for Adam to text her back. "This is lovely."

"Yeah, Lexington's not exactly a big city, but we have a few gems. This is one of our favorites," Raylan said. "Winona said somethin' about celebratin', but I'm not sure what she was talkin' about."

A waiter returned with their drinks, opening the bottle and pouring the wine.

Anna waited until she had a glass of wine in front of her before answering. "I think I know." She took a sip, then another. "Mmmm. Good choice," she said.

"Amazin' but I remembered the wine Adam said you liked." He tilted his head and looked across at her. "So . . . what's the celebration for?"

She quickly downed the rest of the wine. "Adam asked me to marry him, and I said yes." Grabbing the bottle, she poured another glass and took a gulp.

Raylan barked out a laugh. "So, that's why ya' downed half a bottle already." He sipped his whiskey.

"I've messed this up before."

"Yep." He took another, longer sip and waved his glass at the waiter for another. He noted the stricken look on her face. "Don't mean you'll mess it up this time."

"Maybe." She shrugged. "But you know what they say? Three strikes and you're out."

"Third times is the charm." Raylan countered.

He caught a whiff of familiar perfume right before Winona bent to kiss him, sliding into the chair next to his. "Sorry we're late. You know Leslie when she gets to talking."

"Ha!" Adam laughed. "Every time we were ready to leave, Winona here thought of one more thing she _had _to tell Mrs. Mullins."

Winona flushed. "I haven't left Willa that often. Leslie said she could stay all night if we wanted, but I'm not sure. I told her I'd let her know."

"Let her know," Raylan said, and he poured some wine into her glass. "And now, we have an evenin' to ourselves." He leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear. "Text your sister and tell her not to wait up 'cause we won't be comin' to her house tonight . . . That we need some _alone_ time."

Winona smiled. "I like the way you think, Cowboy." She quickly pulled out her phone and sent the texts, first to Leslie, taking her up on her offer, and then to Gayle.

The waiter reappeared, and Raylan ordered another whiskey and a second bottle of wine. The four took a few minutes to peruse the menu, and they were ready to order when he returned.

"Anna just told me your news," Raylan said. "Congratulations." He raised his glass and clinked it against Adam's. The ladies followed suit.

"We're _so_ happy for you," Winona gushed.

With a glass of wine in front of him, Adam leaned forward in his seat, sliding a box across the table to Anna. "I always figured I'd do this in private, but the question has already been asked and answered. Winona helped me pick it out, so I think she should see the reaction."

Anna's hand trembled a little as she opened the box. Her eyes flicked to Adam's, her mouth open in a perfect 'O'. "It's gorgeous."

"Here," he said. He took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger just as the girl with the guitar began to sing Billie Holiday's _The Very Thought of You. _

Raylan leaned into Winona again. "Ya' took him to Rosenburg's?"

She smiled and nodded.

"It's a platinum setting so it will last forever. Winona says the stone is flat, so it won't catch on anything when you're working." Adam was babbling, and Anna placed a finger on his lips.

"I love it, and I love you," she said. And she gave him a kiss that left him breathless.

Anna caught Raylan's look of approval. Normally a very private person, she surprised herself in being happy that Winona and Raylan where there to help her and Adam celebrate the special occasion. And she couldn't help but think that, even if Raylan turned out not to be her brother, he and Winona had officially become real friends.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

As soon as they were inside the motel room and had closed the door, Raylan and Winona were all over one another. Off their clothes went, flying everywhere, as they stumbled their way to the bed.

"God, I missed you," Raylan panted. His boots came off, and he grabbed his wallet out of the pocket of his slacks and tossed it on the nightstand. Next came the pants and his boxers. "See how badly?" He almost begged, and he unhooked Winona's bra on the first try.

Away went the bra, as Winona climbed over him on the bed. He helped her wiggle out of her panties, and she held him in her hands. "I can see," she teased and lowered her head to the source of his passion to work her magic on him. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the ride.

In between his moans of pleasure, she teased him some more by bringing him to the brink and then, backing off. She lifted her head and pouted at him. "I waited for you last night. I waited for you _all_ night. And I waited for you all day. You're all I could think about."

"Get up here, then," he growled, grabbing her by her shoulders, pulling her up towards him. She reached over to the nightstand and fished a condom out of his wallet. Carefully, she opened the package and rolled it on him.

Her eyes glistened and she hesitated, giving Raylan time to quickly flip her over so that she was lying on her back. He slowed the pace and reached down to check her readiness.

"Told you I've been waiting," she moaned at his touch.

She was ready, and he primed her even further with his long fingers while devouring her breasts. She moaned and writhed under him. "Show me how badly you missed me."

He shifted his weight and entered her. They both let out a gasp, and he covered her mouth with his, their tongues tangling.

It was about that time, one of their cell phones rang and just as quickly went to voice mail. They couldn't tell which phone it was and ignored it for the moment, as there were more important things on their minds.

When they were both on the brink, the phone's ringtone chimed again. Frustrated with the interruptions, Raylan rushed to take them over the edge and reached over the nightstand for his phone. It was Art.

"Givens," he panted.

"Sorry to interrupt you," Art began.

"Of course ya' interrupted me. Winona and I are _alone._" He emphasized the word. "Ya' got our baby." After a beat, he asked, "Is she alright?"

"She's fine, Raylan. I'm calling on business. There's been an explosion. At Noble's Holler. It's a bad one. I'll pick you up on my way out. Where are you?"

Raylan quickly sat up in bed and gave Art the motel information. "I'll be ready."

"_Noble's Holler,"_ Raylan thought to himself. They had just been there.

"What's going on, Raylan?" Winona sat up beside him, holding the sheet over her. "Is Willa okay?"

He stood, pulling on his boxers and jeans. "She's fine." He grabbed a clean t-shirt from the go-bag he'd brought in and tossed in the corner, tugging the tee over his head. "There's been some kind of an explosion down in Noble's Holler. Art says it's bad one."

"Weren't you and Anna just down there?" Winona hopped up, starting to get dressed, too.

He nodded and said, "Art's pickin' me up. Ya' might as well stay here and get some sleep."

"If it's all the same to you, I think I'll text Leslie and see if she wants some company."

Raylan sighed. It had been a waste of the money for the motel room, but then, considering how they'd spent the last hour, maybe not a bad bargain.

Walking to her, he pulled Winona into his arms. "Sorry we got interrupted there at the end."

"Did you hear me complaining?" She smiled up at him.

He kissed her mouth. "No, but I do wish I could stay for another round."

Her eyebrow went up. "A victory lap?"

"Heh," he chuckled, pulling away. "I gotta go." He slid the hat on. His hand was on the doorknob when his phone rang again. He answered without looking.

"Raylan," Karen Goodall began. "I'm on the next flight out of D.C. What happened with your man, Crowder? I thought you said you could make this happen."

"I thought I could," he said, exiting and closing the door behind him. "We had Boyd call on a rigged up phone and listened in. Arndt turned him down flat. Said he didn't cater to drug dealers."

"Well, that's just great," Karen huffed. "Now, we've got some kind of an explosion . . . most likely Arndt's group . . . and no telling how many casualties."

"They blew the bridge, right?"

"Yeah, from what I know. One way in, one way out."

"True, but Noble's is a ways up the mountain from that bridge. Could be nothin' else has happened yet."

Raylan had a thought. "Lemme try callin' Elstin. I got his number in my phone."

"You do that and call me back," Karen said. "Ten minutes. And if you haven't already, I think you'd better inform Agent Rulé."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Anna," Raylan spoke into his cell, waiting in the lobby for Art to show up. "Did ya' hear?" He could tell from the way she answered the phone, he had interrupted her romantic evening in much the same way his and Winona's had been interrupted only a short time ago. He didn't wait for her reply. "There's been an explosion at Noble's Holler."

"Shit," she swore.

"My sentiments exactly," he agreed. "Art's on his way to pick me up at my motel lobby. I'm stayin' at the Holiday Inn Express, about 10 blocks from where you're stayin'. Do ya' think ya' could meet me here in the next 15 minutes? Ride with us?"

"Just give me time to get some clothes on," she answered. "Where are you?"

"Your hotel is on Lexington Green Circle," he explained. "Take Lexington Green Circle around to Mall Road. This place is on the right, after you cross West Reynolds Road. Oh, and if ya' want, Adam could sit tight with Winona. Who knows how long we'll be gone? She's callin' Art's wife to go and round up little Willa and wait. He could call her. She hasn't left yet." After a pause, he added, "Or not."

"Good idea," she said. "I'll see you in 15."

After disconnecting the call, the next call he made was to Limehouse. After 4 rings, the call went to Voice Mail. He said, "Elstin. This is Raylan Givens. Word has it that there's been an explosion at Nobel's. Please call me back and lemme know you're okay."

He disconnected that call, let out a deep sigh, and decided not to call Karen. She'd surely call him back soon enough. He figured he might as well enjoy the last few minutes of peace and quiet he'd have for a while.

In record time, Anna pulled up, only Adam was driving. As they approached him in the lobby, Raylan walked over and flashed his badge at the front desk clerk. "He's with me. He's gonna go upstairs to meet my . . . ex-wife," he explained, feeling rather stupid. How he hated introducing Winona in that way. "Room 305," Raylan said to Adam with a nod, and he and Anna watched her fiancé head for the elevators.

The two law enforcement offices walked back outside to wait for Art.

"I'm sorry I had to call and spoil your engagement night," Raylan said. "It couldn't be helped."

"It's okay," she said. "Goes with the territory. You know that."

"That, I do," he nodded.

"Besides, I know Adam and I have had a romantic evening . . . alone . . . a lot more recently than you and Winona."

"I know," Raylan complained. "Don't that beat all?"

At that point, Art pulled up in his rig. Raylan directed Anna to the front passenger seat. He took the back seat, figuring he could stretch out on the long drive to Noble's. Once the doors were closed and seatbelts were clicked, Art took off for the expressway with is lights on. That would get them there faster.

"Good Lord," Art declared. "It smells like a brewery in here."

Both Raylan and Anna reeked of alcohol.

"I told ya' you interrupted somethin'," Raylan rubbed it in. "And to make ya' feel even worse, did ya' know that Agent Rulé here just got herself engaged, tonight?"

"I don't feel bad in the least," Art answered Raylan through the rear view mirror in the dark. "I'm not the one who blew up the bridge." Then, he looked over at Anna. "Congratulations to you are in order."

"Thank you," Anna said. "And thank you for driving."

"Good thing I am," Art chuckled. "I'm the only one of the three of us who should be driving."

"It's been a coupla hours since I had anything. I'm practically sober," Raylan huffed.

"Me, too," Anna echoed. She opened her slim purse and fished out a box. Popping out two tablets, she swallowed them dry.

"Aspirin?" Raylan said.

"Ibuprofen. Want some?"

He held out his hand between the seats and she dropped the medicine into his open palm.

Art reached into the console and came up with a bottle of water. "You'll have to share," he said, passing it to Anna. She took a swig and wiped the mouth of the bottle with the hem of her t-shirt, handing it over the seat to Raylan.

"Thanks." He took several swallows and handed it back.

"I'm fine," Anna said. "As long as we're picking up some coffee."

"You read my mind," Raylan said.

"I know just the place." Art pulled into a drive-through and ordered coffees and some greasy breakfast sandwiches and hash browns for all. "The grease will soak up some of the alcohol."

"Ya' say this as if ya' know from personal experience," Raylan quipped while they waited in line behind three other cars. "Always amazes me how many people are up this time a night, lookin' for their 4th meal."

"You mean morning," Art corrected him, glancing at the clock on the dash of his SUV. It read 12:20 a.m.

It was at about that time, Art's cell phone rang. Art looked down at his cell phone screen. "Karen Goodall," he announced, glancing at Raylan in the back seat indicating that he was not there.

"Hey, Karen," Art answered. "I'm in the car, on my way now, out to the scene, to check out the situation."

"Have you heard from Raylan?" Karen asked. "He said he had Elstin Limehouse's number and was going to call him and then, call me right back."

"And he never called you back? That sounds like Raylan." Art continued, "He's on his way to the scene, about twenty, thirty minutes ahead of me. Probably knows the back roads and is probably out of cell phone range by now."

"I also asked him to notify Agent Anna Rule. I think we need the FBI at the scene."

"She's with him," Art reported, finally moving up a car length, deciding to throw Raylan a bone with their superior.

Knowing that Art was familiar with Raylan's search for his sister, she asked, "What do you think? Do you think that Raylan and Anna are half siblings?"

Art chuckled. "That would be an affirmative. What do you think?"

"I'm thinking yes."

Changing the subject, Art asked, "I take it you're flying in?"

"Yes, but I can't get a flight out until 10:30 a.m. Seems the Lexington forecast is for fog in the morning. The 7 a.m. flight was cancelled."

Art looked out his windshield and up at the sky. There was not a hint of fog.

"Would you call me when you reach the scene?" she asked.

"I'd like to, but there's no cell phone coverage there," he reported, thinking she didn't catch what he'd said about Raylan's whereabouts. "Why don't you plan to go straight to the office? I'll make sure that a marshal will be there to bring you out to the scene. You'd never be able to find Noble's Holler on your own. Hell, I didn't even know the place existed until Raylan had that case that involved the Bennett clan and their money. It's not on any map. Of course, if we can wrap this thing up quickly, I'll see you back at the office. Depends on what we find there."

"Sounds good, Chief," Karen said. "I will see you, one way or another, in the morning."

After disconnecting the call, Art moved up another car length and looked over at Anna. "I'm not going to have a problem from you am I for stretching the truth a little to the Assistant Director, am I?"

"Not at all, Chief," Anna smiled.

"She's not a fan," Raylan announced from the back seat. "Of Karen. Karen's in rare form on this task force."

Art chuckled. "Awww. Karen's alright. I've had worse Assistant Directors."

After a beat of silence, Raylan said, "Art. Thanks for coverin' for me."

"Raylan," Art sighed, finally moving up to the window and handing over his credit card. "I did it for me, not for you. I didn't think it was a good idea with you, being under the influence of alcohol, to be shooting your mouth off at the Assistant Director. Makes my life miserable."

Art's card was returned, along with the coffees and fast food, and they were on the road to Noble's Holler.

_(To be continued . . . )_


	21. Chapter 21

_Chapter 21_

_The Hierarchy_

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Raylan sat strait up in his seat with his head in between the two front headrests. His eyes were fixed straight ahead, his pupils dilated with excitement. "Holy _shit_."

Art brought his rig to an abrupt halt, and the three LEOs were thrown forward and then, snapped back, held in their seats thanks to their seatbelts.

"Everybody alright?" Art asked.

"Yeah," Anna and Raylan answered, nodding simultaneously.

In the darkness, illuminated only by the truck's headlights, they could see that the bridge leading into Noble's Holler was gone. Had Art's truck come to a stop only two seconds later, they would have all been swimming in the dark, murky Martins Fork River with the water moccasins.

"I've got some flashlights there in the back," Art said to Raylan.

Raylan released his seatbelt and turned around in the backseat, up on his knees, and fished through Art's gear. "Found 'em" he said, passing one to Art and one to Anna, keeping one for himself.

The three slowly exited the vehicle with their hands on their guns at the ready, proceeding in trained, investigative mode. Gathering at the back of rig, Art popped the window to retrieve the Kevlar vests.

"Smell that?" Art asked Raylan, keeping his voice down, passing Raylan a vest.

"Emulex," Raylan answered, strapping on the vest.

"How do you know?" Anna asked, following suit.

"When ya' work in the mines, ya' never forget that smell."

Anna's mind was racing. "Who reported this incident?"

"Now_, that's_ a good question," Art responded as the larger man strapped on his, too. "I don't know. I got the call from Dispatch."

"Evidently, we're the only ones who _did_ get the call." Raylan peered into the darkness.

Anna flashed her light toward the water. "That is odd, isn't it? Where are the locals?"

"Couple of departments could argue about jurisdiction. That's always a problem up here in these hills." Art slapped his neck. The mosquitos were out.

"If I can get a signal, I'll call down to Harlan. At least get some paramedics up here in case we need 'em." Raylan tried his phone, glancing at the screen. "Shit. No service," he said, slipping it back in his pocket.

Anna tried hers too, as she was with a different carrier. No luck. They proceeded to fan out from the truck, shining their flashlights all around. They couldn't see or hear anything. Down below, splintered pieces of the bridge were strewn into the river. Art returned to the back of his rig to retrieve his bull horn, and raised it to his mouth.

"This is the U.S. Marshals," his voice echoed into the holler. "Is everyone alright? We are here to help."

There was no response. They waited for a time, when Art made his announcement again. Still, nothing. He looked up at the sky. The New Moon offered nothing but darkness. And just as Karen said the Weather Service predicted, fog was beginning to roll in.

"Dammit," Raylan swore, as he slapped a biter that landed on the side of his face.

"We'd better get back in the truck before we're eaten alive," Art suggested and received no argument. Once all were back inside, he glanced at the clock on the dash. "4:10 a.m.," he announced.

Art quickly checked his cell phone, too. It was out of the service area, just as he thought it would be. "Well," he sighed. "We can either drive back to that rest stop . . . or . . . stay here in the car until sun up."

"I vote for stayin' here," Raylan said without missing a beat.

"Agreed," Anna followed. "This isn't my first stake out."

"Alright. I say we try to catch 40 winks before sun up." Art's was the third vote, making it unanimous. "Good thing we stopped to use the rest stop facilities a few miles back." After a beat, he locked the doors and turned around to the back seat. "Raylan, are you good to stretch out back there?"

"Yeah," he said, reaching back into Art's gear where he found some auto blankets. After passing them out, he removed his hat, lay back against the door, and covered himself with a blanket and his face with the Stetson.

"I'll take first watch," Anna said.

"I appreciate that." Art pulled the release lever on the side near the floor, and his seat moved back towards Raylan, giving him a little more legroom. He then pushed another button, and his seat reclined. Anna did the same. In no time at all, there was soft snoring coming from the two men, as Anna stared out into the dark.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

The sun came up, and Raylan stirred from the backseat. "Owwww," he said, under his breath.

"Are you alright back there?" Anna asked.

As he sat up with his hand on his neck, Raylan answered, "I got a damn crick in my neck. Any lesser man would be writhin' in pain, but not me," he said with bravado. "Not to mention my face itched all night from where that damn mosquito bit me."

Anna let out a little chuckle.

Sure enough, Raylan had a big, angry bite on the side of his face. "How about I take over the watch, and maybe you could close your eyes for a bit?" Raylan offered, keeping his voice down so as not to wake Art.

"I'm fine," Anna said. "Besides, I dozed off for a bit a while back. I mean, look at it," she said, referring to the fog that surrounded the truck. "Kind of hard to be the lookout when you can't see anything in front of you."

It was then that Raylan looked around and saw what she meant. "Are ya' hungry? Thirsty?" he asked, reaching to the back of the rig with his good arm and grabbing his Go Bag. He unzipped it to find some protein bars and bottled water. "I got chocolate mint and a hazelnut," he said, holding up the bars.

"I'll take the chocolate mint," she said. "Thanks¸" she added, when he passed it to her with a bottled water.

"Hell, we're stuck," Raylan complained as he ripped open the packaging with his teeth. "We can't even go back to the rest stop. Not in this fog. We've got no cell reception."

"I know. We can't even get to those poor people to see what's happened," Anna remarked. "There's no way you and I couldn't swim across that river?"

"That river and all this land around it is full of water moccasins this time of year," he said, in between bites of his bar. "And no offense, but even if there wasn't any fog, your footwear is no way appropriate to protect you from the snakes and this rough terrain."

Anna was wearing her running shoes. "I'm sorry I don't own a pair of cowboy boots."

"No, I guess not. You're pretty much a city gal," he quipped.

"I do go out on assignment from time to time," she reminded him, sipping her water.

"No offense intended," he said. "Winona's a city girl, too. I get it. You don't need protective boots in D.C. or New Orleans."

"I'm glad Winona is with Adam," she said. "Being a civilian, it's hard for him sometimes. The waiting for me to call with some kind of news." After no response from Raylan, she said, "They worry about us, you know?"

Staring out the window at the wall of fog, he answered, "Yeah. I know."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

When Leslie walked into the kitchen in a pale blue French terry jogging suit, Adam was at the table, a mug of coffee in front of him. "I hope you don't mind," he said. "The smell woke me up." The morning had started out hazy, but now the sun was breaking through, slanting in the eastern window and flooding the small kitchen with light.

"That's why I set the timer and put the mugs out last night before we turned in," Leslie said. "Or should I say this morning." She yawned and poured a cup for herself.

"Yeah, it was one of those nights." Adam took a sip.

"Winona's still sleeping," Leslie said. "Although I thought I heard Willa while I was getting dressed. I walk with my friend Cindy at eight. You'll be alright here on your own? There's cereal and milk – oh, and there's eggs, too, if you feel like something more substantial. Winona tells me you like to cook."

"Yes," Adam nodded. "May I?" He hesitated with his hand on the fridge door.

"Absolutely," Leslie said. She leaned against the counter with her cup and watched the young man study the contents of the fridge.

"Why don't I make us all omelets?" he suggested. "You have eggs, tomatoes, onions, mushrooms . . . and there's a pepper here, too."

"That sounds delicious," Leslie said. "We only walk for about a half-hour on Tuesdays. Cindy has yoga at nine."

"Perfect." Adam smiled.

Leslie left, and he began assembling ingredients on the counter, stopping long enough to finish his coffee and pour another cup.

"Good morning." Winona's voice startled him, and he turned to see her leaning in the doorway, Willa balanced on one hip.

"Do you always sneak up on people?" he teased. 

"Do you always take over people's kitchens?" she teased back. She poured herself a cup of coffee and settled into one of the kitchen chairs, Willa on her lap, clutching the monkey and drooling.

Adam laid a hand on the baby's head. "Good morning to you, too, Miss Willa." She rewarded him with a slobbery grin and went back to loving her monkey.

"Do you like omelets?" he asked, cracking several eggs into a bowl.

"Yes," Winona answered. "And despite our feast last night, I'm pretty hungry."

By the time Leslie returned from her walk, cheeks flushed pleasantly from the exercise, Winona was eating her omelet.

"Yours is almost ready," Adam said.

She stepped up to the sink, turning on the water. "Let me wash my hands. Any word from Raylan?" Leslie asked.

Winona shook her head. "Art?"

"Nope." After drying her hands on a towel, she turned on the tiny kitchen television set. "Maybe there'll be something about the explosion on the news."

"I doubt it," Winona snorted. "The news crew would probably get lost in one of the _hollers _down there in Harlan County and never be heard from again."

"Harlan County," Adam repeated. "That sounds familiar."

"There was something on PBS awhile back. Maybe that's where you heard of it." Leslie shook her head. "But it's old. You would've been a kid."

"Something about miners striking?"

"That's the one," Leslie said. "1974, I think." She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a seat across from Winona.

"Got pretty nasty, didn't it?" Adam slid a plate in front of Leslie and picked up Winona's empty one.

"Things are always nasty down in Harlan," Winona said, wrinkling her nose. "It seems like someone is always shooting someone."

"It's pretty down there, though," Leslie said.

"Yes, it can be," Winona said, recalling the view from the old house the day of Helen's funeral. "But I still hate that place. No matter what we do, it always seems to pull Raylan back."

"Well, I know Art has appreciated the way he has with the folks down there," Leslie said, trying to change the tone. She tapped her fingers on the table to get the baby's attention.

"Da-da-da-da!" Willa shrieked, pounding her little fist into the monkey's fur.

"She sure loves her daddy," Leslie said, giving Winona a smile. "I'm glad you two are working things out." 

"Me, too." Winona gave her daughter a squeeze.

Adam fixed his own plate and joined the ladies at the table, all eyes focused on the news. After ten minutes of coverage on a convenience store robbery and the arrest of a local baseball coach for soliciting for prostitution, the anchor turned it over to the weatherman. Pointing to his radar he informed them in somber tones that while the fog was lifting in the city _"outlying areas could see visibility under one mile well into mid-morning."_

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

It was a little before noon when the three LEO's, all fully awake, heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. They turned and looked behind Art's truck, towards where the sound was coming from, and watched in horror as Tim's truck swerved to keep from hitting Art's rig and slammed on the brakes. A moment later, Art, Anna, and Raylan emerged to greet Tim and Karen Goodall.

"That was too close for comfort," Tim quipped, the others still a bit shaken.

"Tim. It's never a good idea to run into your Chief's vehicle," Art deadpanned.

Taking a look around him, Tim said, "Nope. Wouldn't have been good. You all almost ended up in the Martins Fork River, and I'd probably have been shipped back to Afghanistan."

Changing the subject, Karen Goodall, dressed in jeans, boots, and wearing a Marshals Service jacket, took charge of the scene. "It took us long enough to be able to get to you. The fog is finally beginning to lift, at least back toward civilization. We left Deputy Marshal Brooks at the airport, and as soon as it's safe to do so, a helicopter I commandeered will arrive to survey the damage . . . and aid us in searching for Arndt or any injured." Everyone, including Art, listened to her every word.

"The task force will be led by me, here at the scene. If anything happens to me or I have to leave the scene, Agent Rulé, FBI, is in charge."

Tim rolled his eyes at Raylan and grinned. Art noticed the exchange and shot the younger Marshal a warning glare.

"There you have it, the reporting hierarchy." She continued, "The FBI is quashing all news reports and the media, until we've had a chance to quietly round up Arndt and take him into Federal custody."

"You owe us one, too," Tim interjected. "We picked up a couple of buckets of KFC for lunch. Figured you'd been eating Go Bag food by now."

"That we were," Raylan said. "By the way, I couldn't help but notice that all the good stuff, ya' know, the big bag of Doritos and the beef jerky and that bag of pistachios I had in my bag . . . were gone." Looking Tim straight in the eye, he asked, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, now? Would ya'?"

Flashing a mischievous grin, Tim said, "Not me. Maybe it was Rachel."

"'_By the book'_ Deputy Marshal Brooks?" Raylan's eye narrowed. "I don't think so."

The group wandered back to Tim's truck, and he opened the tailgate, laying out the chicken, napkins, and all the extras.

"Ah-ah-ah," Tim scolded Raylan. "Ladies first."

But it was too late. Raylan grabbed a bucket and pulled off the lid, taking a chicken leg for himself and passing the bucket to Anna. "Ummm," he mumbled between bites. "Extra crispy."

"What other kind is there?" Tim asked. "You always were a leg man," he bantered. "I'm a breast man myself."

Art took the bucket next, and Tim looked worried as his boss deliberately laid claim to the one breast. "Don't look so stricken," Art said to Tim. "There's another bucket."

Anna took a seat on the open tailgate of Art's rig that was parked next to Tim's. She dug into some baked beans and a biscuit, her feet now safely off the ground. Ever since Raylan told her about the snakes, she'd been uneasy about walking around in her running shoes_. "Shit,"_ she thought to herself_. "Even The Bitch knew not to come to this part of the country without boots."_ But as Raylan politely said in his country boy way, how was she to know? Even though she may have been born in this part of the country, this was the first time she'd ever been there. Or was it?

Raylan joined her, taking a seat on the other side of the tailgate. His added weight lowered the gate's height a bit.

"So, what was with that, about me being second in command?" she asked, disapprovingly pulling the crispy skin off her piece of thigh meat with her fingers. "Does it mean you're in the dog house with her, again?"

Raylan gave a _"Tsk."_ "I'm sure I am," he said, licking the grease from his fingers. "But that's not what that was all about. It means the FBI has the lead on this one. And you're FBI. I'd of never been considered anyways. Art would. But even Art gets it."

She looked over at him to see how he was doing with it. Not that the gesture meant much to her. It was the _idea_ of being in charge of a big investigation that was new to her. If need be, she knew she could do it. She'd been trained for any scenario.

"Don't even worry about it," Raylan reassured her. "Believe me, this isn't the first time the Marshals Service has taken a backseat to the Feebs, and it sure won't be the last." He took a chomp on an ear of corn. "Karen has the clout to bring in a helicopter, and she has a few years on ya'. Plus she's a big wig bureaucrat in DC, now. But she still has to have the FBI at the scene. And that's where you come in."

"Well, yeah," she said. "I figured that. I just didn't expect a nod from her."

"I told ya' she's not so bad." Placing the cob down on his plate, void of every single kernel, Raylan continued. "I have some advice for ya' if you're willin' to take it. Art and I are damn good shots. We taught Firearms at Glynco. You knew that about me, but not Art. But as good as we are . . . no one's a better shot than Deputy Marshal Tim Gutterson. The man's a sharpshooter, trained in Afghanistan. Got his short and long range rifles with scopes in his truck."

"Good to know," Anna said, taking it all in."

Wiping his hands and mouth with a napkin, he continued. "And you already know, Rachel Brooks is just as solid as the day is long. An excellent shot herself, smart, and cool as a cucumber. A real Pro." After a beat he added, "But if ya' know what's good for ya', always remember this: DON'T MAKE ART RUN," he said, talking with his hands for emphasis. "His runnin' days are over, and it'll piss him off if ya' make him run. Okay?"

"Got it," she smiled. "I'll remember that."

"I for one am glad you're here. Trust me, we've had some real assholes from the FBI before."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she said with all sincerity.

"Did I hear you mention the name of FBI Agent Jerry Barkley?" Tim asked, approaching them with his plate of lunch. "May that asshole rest in peace."

"I was just about to tell her the story of ol' Barkley," Raylan answered.

His tale was interrupted before it even began, by the whirr of a chopper coming in just over the horizon.

"Eat up," Raylan recommended, and Tim shoveled his plate of food in his mouth.

Everyone finished up whatever it was they were doing to clean up, stow away the leftover food, and check their weapons . . . preparing themselves for whatever was to come.

_(To be continued . . .)_


End file.
